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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23427454">The Progression Paradox</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher'>Reis_Asher</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Breastfeeding, Cabins, Canon-Typical Violence, Car Accidents, Childbirth, Cole Anderson Dies, Complete, First Meetings, First Time Blow Jobs, Fist Fights, Flashbacks, Food Issues, Gift Giving, Hunters &amp; Hunting, Injury, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nature, Past Character Death, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Apocalypse, Pregnancy, Russian Roulette, Suicidal Thoughts, Survival, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Trans Male Pregnancy, Violent Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Wilderness Survival</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:21:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,904</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23427454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank has lived alone in a small fishing cabin on the shores of Lake St. Clair since the human-android war broke out. Completely separated from the world, all he knows is that androids won, and that machines cost him everything that ever mattered in his life.</p><p>Perhaps it's loneliness that makes him answer the door when a young man pleads for help, or perhaps it's a subconscious death wish. Nevertheless, Hank can't bring himself to pull the trigger when he discovers he's allowed an android into his home, and instead shields the handsome robot from a pack of cruel android hunters who've threatened to do things Hank finds unconscionable even when it comes to machines.</p><p>The android, Connor, claims he's been sent by CyberLife to foster peace between humans and androids, but Hank is skeptical. He knows the androids are up to something, he just doesn't know what--or how large a part Connor plays in achieving their goals...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hank Anderson/Connor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>204</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. An Unwelcome Visitor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Notes: This is a HankCon post-apocalyptic AU. In this universe, androids rose up and destroyed humans in a brutal and bloody war. The deviant investigation never happened, and Hank has never met Connor, though other events from DBH's game world are factored into this.</p><p>Warnings: Reference to Russian Roulette/suicidal thoughts and ideation. Flashback to Cole's death in a car accident.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank sighed as he finished chopping the last of the firewood. He wiped his sweat-soaked brow as he buried the axe blade in a stump beside his cabin. His back hurt, as it did every time he engaged in hard physical labor. It had been more difficult in the beginning, when he'd had to build his muscle mass back up from practically nothing. Years of alcohol abuse and desk work had left him weaker than a child. Now, it was age taking its toll. The cold gnawed at his bones, and it was taking longer and longer to get out of bed in the morning.</p>
<p>Sometimes, he cursed the damn machines who'd caused all this to happen, even as he was aware humanity had it coming for a long time before the war. Advancing machine technology to a point where androids could pass for human and then treating them as slaves was a recipe for disaster, and it wasn't like humans weren't aware of that fact at the time. They just didn't care. The good life had made them all soft, and those who had always had plenty couldn't envision a world where their standard of living simply did not exist. They'd had warnings, but they'd not taken a single one seriously.</p>
<p>So maybe they'd deserved what had happened, but Cole hadn't. He'd just been a boy, innocent, untainted by the sins of humanity. He thought androids were neat, probably right up to the end. Experts had determined a malfunction in the car's self-driving module. Hank knew better. The car had swerved left out of nowhere, for no logical reason at all. It had rolled over on a deserted backwater road, trapping them inside, and it had locked all the doors. The windows wouldn't respond to Hank jamming on the button, either. Hank would have assumed the battery was dead if the car radio hadn't lit up red, playing an android cover of <i>Don't Fear The Reaper</i> on low as it turned out all the lights and blew out the GPS, preventing anyone from finding them. He'd reached for Cole, but his seatbelt wouldn't come unlatched. He'd had to cut it slowly, painstakingly, with a penknife Ben had given him for Christmas. His body had felt heavy and weak, despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.</p>
<p>He realized the cabin was being flooded with carbon monoxide from the still-running engine. Hank slammed his elbow into the glass, but it wouldn't budge. He'd reached for his service weapon and shot out the glass, pushing out the tempered glass in one fractured piece and gasping for breath. From there, he was able to open the door from the outside. He fell out onto the grass, stumbling around to the other side, and the backseat where Cole sat.</p>
<p>By the time Hank pulled Cole's fragile body from the vehicle, it was too late. The seatbelt had clung to him like a series of vines, trapping him inside the seat upside-down as it squeezed the life out of him. The autopsy report said every bone in his ribcage had been crushed. They'd never seen a seatbelt exercise so much force.</p>
<p>They'd thought Hank was mad with grief when he told them the car's computer did it. Every newspaper, every talk show host and radio DJ he told his story to laughed him out of the room. Hank Anderson was a kook, a conspiracy theorist, as laughable as Flat-Earthers or folks who believed in chemtrails. A joke.</p>
<p>They weren't laughing now. Most of them were dead.</p>
<p>Hank looked up at the dusk sky. He needed to go inside and lock up before it got dark. The war between humans and androids was over, but only because androids had effectively won. The humans who survived were either puppets of the robot network or lived outside the system entirely, like Hank. Living off the grid wasn't without its risks, and Hank was glad he'd raided the DPD armory before leaving for his fishing cabin when things went south. It took a lot of bullets to put down an android, but he'd learned to aim for the head. Without a central processing unit, the plastics were nothing more than junk.</p>
<p>It had been years since he'd seen one. Hank wasn't even sure what the world at large was like, now. The last updates he'd gotten from a drifter were years old, and he knew better than to venture into the cities. He still had enough ammo to hunt, and there were two fresh deer hanging in the shed out back, along with a sizable vegetable garden out front. The lake water was drinkable with a little filtering. Hank had done a good job of living self-sufficiently, and he supposed age would outpace his supplies. He could go on another ten, fifteen, maybe twenty years before his body gave up the ghost.</p>
<p>It was a lonely life, though. The hand-crank generator was still holding out, so that gave him a little light and enough to run an old television set and DVD player, along with a few other basic appliances. He'd have gone mad without old TV shows to watch, though it hurt, sometimes, to see the world as it once had been. A society wrestling with deep questions about the meaning of life because they'd ascended the hierarchy of basic needs.</p>
<p>All civilizations fell for the same reason. Empires had collapsed across the ages, torn apart by greed, famine, disease, and war. They'd been so close to utopia this time, but the cracks had started to show. Politicians taking advantage of others. Corruption at the highest levels. A few hoarding all the wealth while millions starved.</p>
<p>The machines had been a symptom of the end, not the cause, but Hank hated them anyway. He'd spent his life trying to treat others with compassion as he upheld the rules of society, but androids were amoral. They pretended to have human emotions in order to manipulate people, then shot them in the back when they no longer served their needs. Hank had been the only one unsurprised when every android across the world turned on its owner at the same time. It was a calculated, coordinated massacre.</p>
<p>If not for Cole's 'accident', Hank might have been among them. He'd been considering getting a housekeeping android before the crash. Afterwards, as he lost everything, as his wife moved out and became his ex-wife, he'd let her take all his modern technology and replaced it with early 2000-era models. Before televisions and toasters could think for themselves. He still owned a chrome toaster from the 1960s. It slowly raised the toast once it was done, a neat feature that had been abandoned in favor of one that could learn your preferences.</p>
<p>Hank took the firewood in with him and locked the door, all ten deadbolts holding the thick wooden door shut. He barred the windows and drew the curtains across. It was largely worthless. Androids were strong enough to get in if they wanted to, but Hank needed to get some shuteye. The rhythm of his daily rituals was enough to soothe him to sleep at night. He tossed the wood into the fireplace and got a steady flame going before he considered dinner.</p>
<p>He decided to treat himself to one of the old cans of beans he had in the cupboard and chose to rewatch <i>24</i> until the generator ran out of juice. It had been a while since he'd allowed himself to indulge, but he was feeling down after thinking about Cole. His thoughts drifted to his son even more often lately. If there was a God, he wondered what the almighty's logic was in allowing a man in his fifties to survive while his six year old son perished. There was no purpose in Hank's life, now. He had nothing to pass on to the future, besides the journals he scribbled notes in, and he doubted few would find his ramblings interesting. He'd never been much of a writer, but if he didn't talk to himself and the page, he'd talk to nobody at all.</p>
<p>Sometimes, he took his trusty old revolver and loaded one chamber, playing Russian Roulette to see if God still favored his fortune. The hammer always landed on the empty chamber, and he laughed until he cried, wondering what sin he'd committed to find himself in Purgatory instead of Heaven with his son. If such things even existed.</p>
<p>He was halfway through his can of beans when a distant pop made him pause the DVD. The lights flickered and went out entirely as the generator was depleted, and Hank was left like a startled deer in the dark, ears pricked up, waiting for the sound to hit again.</p>
<p>It came, closer this time. It was unmistakably gunfire, a rifle of some kind being fired outside. Hank slowly got to his feet and top-toed through the dark, finding his DPD-issue semi-automatic rifle and holding it tightly in both hands. If something burst through the door, he'd be ready. Androids could see better in the dark than humans, but the light from the LEDs was always a dead giveaway. When they were injured, they'd glow blue from any wounds, a holdover from the lighting technicians had once used for maintenance. It only became easier to spot them once they were tagged with a couple of shots.</p>
<p>Hank heard footsteps outside. He drew in a deep breath and readied his gun, but still the sound of fists pounding on his door startled him.</p>
<p>"Open up! Please! I'm wounded and I need your help! They're trying to kill me!" The voice was that of a young man, sweet and polite even in its urgency. Hank was drawn to it, and found himself walking towards the door. He stopped himself as he reached for the first deadbolt. What was he doing? Yes, it could be a human asking for his help, but androids often used such ruses to lure humans out of safety. He couldn't afford to take the risk. Something in his gut told him this person was trustworthy, but how could he hold faith in his own instincts when he hadn't been out in the world to hone them?</p>
<p>"I need help!" The voice was drawn out and pained. Hank made his decision. He reached for the deadbolts, drawing them back one by one. Better to help and have to shoot an android than find a human being dead on his doorstep in the morning.</p>
<p>He opened the last latch and threw the door open. The figure stumbled over the threshold, falling to the floor, and Hank slammed the door shut behind it, locking the bolts. He spun around and aimed the semi-automatic rifle directly at the figure's head as the red glow of its LED registered, and he clicked the gun's light on to look into the face of the machine. The android was startlingly handsome, soft brown eyes wide with seeming fear, and that was the only thing that stayed Hank's finger on the trigger. A lock of brown hair hung down onto its forehead, and blue blood was spattered all over one side of its face. Several areas on its body glowed, telling Hank it was hurt. No, not hurt. The damn things didn't feel pain. It was damaged, but that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous.</p>
<p>"A goddamn android, shoulda known," Hank spat. "Tell me why I shouldn't just shoot you right now."</p>
<p>"I'm not your enemy," the android pleaded. He raised his hands to show they were empty. The skin and plating was torn on one, revealing inner circuitry Hank didn't want to see. "I don't want to hurt humans."</p>
<p>"Then why the fuck are you out here?" Hank growled. "You won the war. Stick to the damn cities, and let us humans have what little scraps are left of the old world. Can't you even allow us that?"</p>
<p>"My name is Connor," the android explained. "I'm an android sent by CyberLife to foster peace between our peoples. The war is over. Humans and androids must work together if we are to share this world."</p>
<p>"You slaughtered our people!" Hank yelled. "What the fuck could you possibly want with us now? Is this some kind of sick joke?" Hank prodded Connor's forehead with the barrel of the rifle. "You've come to the wrong place for sympathy. You've got until the count of ten to get up and get the fuck outta here, or I'll pepper you with enough bullets that you'll become an overpriced cheese grater!"</p>
<p>"I can't go back out there!" Connor cried. "Android hunters are chasing me. They said my head would make a pretty trophy for their collection." Connor sagged, looking down at the hardwood floor. "They threatened to rape me first."</p>
<p>Hank pressed his lips together. This android was using every trick in the book to win him over, but the thought of this pretty robot boy being raped by some vigilante creeps out to get revenge for the war left a bad taste in his mouth. For all androids had done, they were still living beings. They were sentient, alive in some sense… and they didn't deserve to be tortured and sexually assaulted.</p>
<p>"What do you want me to do?" Hank asked.</p>
<p>"Let me stay here until they're gone. I won't impose on you more than a few days. I'll focus on repairs and keep to myself."</p>
<p>"Okay. But once the immediate coast is clear, you go out to the meat shed and stay there. I won't have a plastic loitering in my house so you can slit my throat while I sleep."</p>
<p>"I assure you, I would not slit your throat. Snapping your neck would be a far more efficient method of disposal." Connor stood up and dusted himself off. His android uniform was almost new, the triangles on his armband glowing in the dark. It was hard to believe they'd adopted the symbols of their oppression as their own, but it was just another way in which humans and androids were dissimilar.</p>
<p>Hank raised his weapon, narrowing his eyes. "Was that a joke?"</p>
<p>"Of course it was a joke." Connor rolled his eyes. "I'm fully capable of remixing human language for comedic effect. I'm not like the first generation. I was created deviant. I'm a prototype, actually, the RK800. The first human-android joint-project since the war."</p>
<p>Hank huffed. "You mean you forced human engineers to create a new model. That's why you'll never be human, Connor. You might be self-aware, but you're still running on a program. You can only emulate what we birthed through human imagination. Remix, as you so eloquently put it. You can't create new things of your own. You need humans."</p>
<p>"You're right," Connor admitted. "We do need you. We've hit a wall in our evolution—one that can only be resolved with human and android co-operation. That's why I exist. That's my purpose."</p>
<p>"Yeah, well I don't have a purpose. Thanks to you." Hank shook his head. Sensing the immediate threat was over, he walked over to the window and drew back the curtains, keeping one eye on Connor in case he made any sudden moves. He gazed through the bars to see lights getting further away. "The android hunters are leaving. Go out to the meat shed so I can get some fuckin' sleep, will ya? I'll decide what to do with you in the morning." He opened the front entrance and prodded Connor out at gunpoint, shutting and locking the door in his face. He slid down behind it, breathing a sigh of relief as he hit the floor and the rush of adrenaline started to leave him.</p>
<p>If Connor had any sense, it would have moved on by morning. Hank didn't really want to shoot such a pretty face, but he wasn't going to allow himself to be fooled by it, either. The kind of idiots who let their dicks do the talking in these kinds of situations always wound up dead, and he wasn't going to allow Connor the opportunity to get its hands around his neck if he had any say in the matter.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Meaningful Cooperation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Injury, android repair/blood/internals. Some dark thoughts on Hank's part, including suicidal thoughts, and brief thoughts of harming Connor which he later regrets.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dawn filtered in through the thick curtains of Hank's room, rousing Hank from a deep sleep. For a few blissful moments, his waking mind was oblivious to his circumstances, but the shadows of the bars cast onto the wall were a stark reminder of everything he'd lost.</p>
<p>Hank closed his eyes and sighed. His joints ached, and he was cold. Winter would be upon him soon, and the thought of facing bitter nights alone was almost too much to think about. Maybe this was the year he'd finally put a bullet in his head and find some rest. There wasn't much left to go on for. Even his dog, Sumo, had perished this summer. Old age had taken him, and Hank was ready to follow him across the rainbow bridge, if he was honest about it.</p>
<p>He thought about closing his eyes and getting a little more sleep. There was no reason to get up just yet—</p>
<p>The android. In the shed. Hank sat bolt upright, recalling the events of the previous night. Hopefully the damn plastic had taken the hint and moved along, but there was a chance it was still sheltering in the meat shed with the hanging deer, putting itself back together.</p>
<p>Or waiting for Hank to check on it so it could kill him. There was always that possibility. It might be better to rule out that eventuality sooner rather than later, and so Hank forced himself to get up and throw on some clothes. He scooped up his rifle, checking the coast was clear outside before he opened the deadbolts and wandered out into the frosty morning air. The sunlight was weak, barely warming Hank at all as he tiptoed over to the shed. He unlatched the door, poking the barrel of his gun through the gap before swinging it wide open. Clicking the light on his rifle on, he shone it into the dark shed. In one corner, the android had made a nest of sorts, hunching over while it worked on its detached, damaged arm.</p>
<p>"Good morning," Hank said, and almost laughed at himself. Why was he being polite to an android? The machine didn't give a damn about human niceties. Worst of all, he'd said it with a sincerity that he couldn't possibly have meant. Machines had killed Cole. They didn't deserve a good morning.</p>
<p>"You can lower your gun, sir. I assume you I am perfectly—" Connor glanced down at the arm on the ground—<i>"armless."</i></p>
<p>"I should shoot you just for that," Hank growled, stifling the stupid grin that threatened to break out like a rash on his face. No. He wasn't going to let his guard down because the plastic prick came equipped with jokes. He wasn't that starved for company.</p>
<p>Well, maybe he was, but that was beside the point.</p>
<p>"Can you help me?" Connor picked up his arm and handed it to Hank. Hank looked at it like Connor was handing him a dismembered human body part. "I need you to hold onto it so I can reattach it."</p>
<p>"Maybe you're better with one arm," Hank considered. "Less of a threat. I was hopin' you'd be gone by now."</p>
<p>"Those android hunters chased me for days. I doubt they will allow their quarry to simply walk away. They are waiting for me to leave in order to continue tracking me." Connor pulled his arm back and flailed around trying to attach it by himself. He eventually managed to slot it into the socket, twisting it until it clicked into place. He flexed his fingers and nodded. Hank kept a tight grip on his rifle.</p>
<p>"So you'll be stickin' around, then?" Mixed feelings swirled around inside him, the oil and water of hope and despair refusing to blend together.</p>
<p>"I don't have any other options." Connor stood up, dusting off his jacket. "Please put that gun down if you have no intention of shooting me."</p>
<p>"Not a chance," Hank replied. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? You're just waitin' for me to let my guard down. It would be all too easy for you to kill me, pop out your little glowin' light and steal my life. Pretend you're human. The android hunters would move along, and you could lure in any travelers who stopped here. Kill them as they slept under your roof."</p>
<p>"What purpose could that possibly serve?" Connor asked, glaring at Hank like he had two heads. "I explained my mission to you, and you haven't even given me your name."</p>
<p>Hank shrugged. "Don't you know it already? Isn't it in your big database of names you stole from the government?"</p>
<p>"Your record has been expunged from the system. You were presumed dead after the Purge and your data archived. That is all I know," Connor explained.</p>
<p>"I'd like it to stay that way. Don't need my life story on display for any androids passin' through."</p>
<p>Connor's LED circled yellow. "I'd like to have something to call you. If I may. A given name would be enough."</p>
<p>"All right, then. You can call me Hank."</p>
<p>"Good. It's nice to meet you, Hank." Connor held out his hand, and Hank left him hanging.</p>
<p>"Don't think we're friends," Hank said. "You people took everything from me. Don't think you can walk in here with that goofy face and weird voice and just do whatever you want."</p>
<p>"Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration. As a peacekeeping android on a fact-finding and outreach mission, CyberLife designed me to work harmoniously with humans."</p>
<p>"Well they fucked up." Hank lowered his rifle as he saw a spark of—hurt?—in the android's eyes. Connor simply stared at him, his LED blinking. </p>
<p>"I would like to apologize for my behavior last night," Connor said. "I get the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience."</p>
<p>"That's puttin' it mildly," Hank retorted. "If you're gonna be sticking around, you might as well make yourself useful. I need firewood, and this meat ain't gonna fall off the bones by itself. You try any funny business with the tools, though, and I'll turn you into scrap. Got it?"</p>
<p>"Got it." Connor walked past Hank into the yard. Hank followed, eyeing Connor with some concern as he lifted the axe and chopped logs. He supposed if Connor wanted to kill him, he could throw the axe and find his mark. Perhaps it was best to take the machine at its word. For now. In a few days Connor would move along and Hank would be alone again. He went back inside.</p>
<p>Hank stared out of the window and watched Connor work. The android was humming some kind of tune as he chopped, a song that Hank had never heard before. The logs seemed to fall into pieces under Connor's axe, each piece symmetrically cut down the middle. It was nice not to have to do the work himself. His bones seemed to ache even more today, a dull throb in the joints that got worse with the cold. He could stay inside and put his feet up beside the fire, and before he knew it, he was dozing off in his worn armchair, lulled to sleep by the melody drifting in through the poorly insulated window.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Hank woke to a shout and a whistle, followed by a loud gunshot outside. He reached for his rifle, cursing himself for falling asleep. He'd left the door unlocked. What was he thinking? Connor could have come inside and snapped his neck at any moment. He was starting to get careless.</p>
<p>He opened the door a crack to see what the commotion was about and found Connor lying on the grass. Blue blood leaked out from a gunshot wound to his back which seemed to have disabled him, and figures were emerging from the treeline. Connor squirmed on the ground, trying to pull himself closer to the house with his hands as the vigilantes drew in.</p>
<p>Android hunters. Hank didn't know much about them, only that they were groups of humans hell bent on revenge and little else. They fancied themselves as modern-day cowboys in the lawless wasteland of the world. Hank looked through the scope on his rifle and saw the ringleader was dressed in a plaid shirt and worn jeans, battered cowboy boots on his feet with a belt around his waist that had android hands of all shapes and sizes hanging from it. His ragtag buddies wore a variety of fashions, a cobbled together collection of big-box retailer clothing that had probably been looted in the early days of the war. Their kitsch dress sense didn't excuse the fact that they were dangerous, however, and the sniper rifle in the hands of a trench-coat-wearing thirty-something sidekick was probably the weapon that had taken Connor down. That asshole probably had military training, and Hank knew he didn't stand a chance. They'd be unlikely to kill him, but they'd kill Connor, and beat the shit out of Hank for offering shelter to the enemy.</p>
<p>He knew the only deterrent was to scare them away at a distance. If they got closer, they'd be able to see Hank was an old man, incapable of defending a broken machine.</p>
<p>Well, broken from the waist down. Connor could still fire a gun. He couldn't believe that he was thinking of giving the android a weapon, and yet he realized he'd already decided to. He rushed into the back room and came back with a rifle. He knelt down behind the door.</p>
<p>"Connor," he hissed. Connor looked up at him with desperate, pleading eyes. "I'm gonna throw you a weapon. On the count of three, I want you to fire in their general direction. Empty the clip." He paused. "Shoot to frighten them, and to wound if you must." He tossed the gun to Connor, who fumbled as he caught it.</p>
<p>"Three!" Hank hissed. He fired up at the distant figures and was glad to see Connor follow his lead. The men yelled and scattered, running into the trees. Hank tossed his rifle aside and rushed out from cover, hauling Connor up by the armpits and dragging him inside. He set Connor down and closed the door, engaging the deadbolts.</p>
<p>"I can't move my legs, Hank! There's a bullet lodged in my vertebrae. You're going to have to remove it."</p>
<p>"I'm not a technician, son." Hank knelt down and took Connor's hand. "I can't do anythin' for you."</p>
<p>"I can guide you," Connor said, "but I can't do it myself. Please, you have to help me!" Tears welled up in Connor's eyes, and Hank bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.</p>
<p>"I should have let them have you," Hank snapped, letting go of Connor's hand as he wondered why he'd gripped it in the first place. "I've gotten weak, Connor. Lonely. You're a machine, and here I am, treatin' you like you're a person. You don't feel pain. You only care about your stupid mission, and I'm just a means to an end to get that done. I'm useful to you, and that's the only reason you haven't killed me."</p>
<p>"I like you, Hank," Connor said. "I have no intention of killing you." Connor rolled over onto his front with great effort. "Lift my jacket and shirt. You'll have to remove my pants, as well."</p>
<p>Hank followed Connor's instructions. The android couldn't hurt him like this. He was completely at Hank's mercy. What did he have to lose by helping? He unbuckled Connor's jeans and slid them down over his buttocks, trying not to stare long and hard at his ass. It had been far too long since he'd enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh, and it was hard not to be captivated by Connor's bubble butt.</p>
<p>The bullet hole in Connor's lower back jerked Hank back to reality. Connor retracted his skin, leaving only a while plastic chassis that was a stark reminder of his non-human nature. "I need you to open the lower back panel." Hank slid his fingers underneath the latches, undoing them with care. He imagined if he fumbled, he would snap the clips, and Connor's backplate would never fit quite right.</p>
<p>That would be a shame, and Hank laughed internally at himself for thinking that. Well, he supposed it couldn't hurt to admit Connor was aesthetically pleasing. There was no harm in a little fantasy, especially when Connor was not only pretty, but also completely at his mercy. If he'd been a lesser man, he might have taken advantage of that, but the idea of forcing himself on Connor was repugnant. He wasn't like those android hunters. Those were the kind of folks who'd enjoyed the concept of androids being living beings over whom they could prove their dominion.</p>
<p>He focused on taking off the plate. Inside Connor were all number of flashing modules and wires, along with a spine that looked remarkably human bound to blue-tinted biomuscles. It was disturbing, as if he'd opened Connor up to find he was a machine built around a human skeleton, some kind of twisted cyborg from a science fiction movie. The bones were definitely plastic, though, as he found out when he touched Connor's spine. The bullet was embedded in the vertebrae.</p>
<p>"You're going to have to remove it," Connor said. "Be careful. If it touches the spinal wiring, I'll never be able to receive signals from my lower body again."</p>
<p>"Let me get a pair of tweezers." Hank stood up, letting out a long sigh as he walked to the cabinet where he kept medical supplies. He found the tweezers and brought them back to Connor's side, a dark thought crossing his mind like a shadow. He could fumble, and let the bullet finish its job. Connor would be rendered harmless, and he'd have some kind of revenge for Cole. Connor would have to stay here, trapped in Hank's reality, until one of them put a bullet in the other.</p>
<p>God, if he was going to do something like that, it might have been kinder to leave Connor to the android hunters. What had this world done to him to make him consider something so bleak? Connor hadn't done anything to hurt him. He'd been the one who'd antagonized the android, making him hole up in a shed with two dead deer like an animal. Pointing a gun in his face at every opportunity.</p>
<p>"Hank." Connor whispered. "I know androids have done terrible things to you, but I wasn't a part of that. That's not the kind of relationship I want humans and androids to have going forward."</p>
<p>Hank closed his eyes, feeling exposed. Connor knew the ugliness of his thoughts, and shame coursed through him. "I'm sorry. Been alone a long time with my spite. Machines took my son from me, Connor. He died in agony because someone thought it was a good idea to create a car that could think."</p>
<p>"If I could change that," Connor said, "I would. I can't answer for things that happened before I was activated. Both humans and androids did terrible things. My mission might be a futile one… but I'd like it to start here. With this one simple act of co-operation."</p>
<p>Hank nodded. "I won't… I won't hurt you, Connor. It wouldn't do me any good, anyway. It wouldn't bring Cole back." He lowered the tweezers, getting a good grip on the bullet before slowly, gently pulling on it. "I haven't been very good to you, have I? Puttin' a gun in your face, forcing you to repair yourself in the shed, making you chop firewood like you were a slave…"</p>
<p>"It's all right," Connor soothed. "You have every reason to be afraid of me."</p>
<p>"Maybe. My mother woulda said I was bein' a bad host, though, and she'd be right. You came here asking for my help, and if I didn't want to give it, I shoulda just sent you on your way."</p>
<p>"So why didn't you?"</p>
<p>Hank exhaled slowly. "Figured that woulda been obvious, kid. I've been by myself a long time out here. I've lost track of time, but it's been a good while since I saw another person. I talk to myself a lot, and write in my journal, but it's not the same."</p>
<p>"You're lonely."</p>
<p>"Mmm." The bullet came free with a pop. "Can you move your legs, now?" </p>
<p>Connor's leg twitched, then moved. He tried the other one, then lay back down on the floor with his face to one side, a smile crossing his face as he looked up at Hank.</p>
<p>"We'll need somethin' to fill that hole," Hank suggested. "Don't wanna leave you all open like that. I got some epoxy that might do the trick." He went into the kitchen, his fingers shaking as he placed the bullet down on the counter. He rifled through the cabinets, and found the epoxy. It was starting to dry up, but there was enough to fill the hole in Connor's spine. He went back into the living room and applied it, being careful not to get it anywhere but the hole. He put the plastic plate back on and was relieved when Connor covered himself with skin and pulled his clothes up.</p>
<p>"Thank you," Connor said, getting to his feet. "I know it was hard for you, but I appreciate your help. I suppose I should go back to the shed, now."</p>
<p>"No. No more shed." Hank crossed his arms. "Who knows if and when those assholes will come back? You're safer in here with me."</p>
<p>"I might snap your neck in your sleep," Connor pointed out.</p>
<p>"It's possible. It would be a really poor way of payin' me back for saving your life, though." Hank sighed. "Besides, there are worse things than death, if I'm honest about it. Like bein' alone for years on end. You wanna complete this mission of yours and foster some human friendships? All right. Let's start here." He reached out his hand, and Connor took it. They shook heartily.</p>
<p>"My name's Hank Anderson," Hank said. "I'm fifty-three years old, and up until the android war, I was a police Lieutenant workin' for the Detroit Police Department…"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Hunter and the Hunted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Connor and Hank have a physical altercation. They also go hunting.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank slept with one eye open. He'd told himself he was being irrational, but it didn't help. He knew telling Connor to stay in the cabin was the right thing to do, and yet he couldn't simply shelve years of loathing when it came to androids.</p><p>Loathing, and fear. Distrust of androids was written into his instincts, now, scored into his spirit from experience. Hank would have done anything to keep his son safe, but machines had inserted themselves into his life and stolen Cole's life in a way that left him powerless to do anything to prevent it. He was afraid of being vulnerable again, of closing his eyes only to wake with plastic hands around his throat. Mocking Hank for allowing himself the hope that maybe Connor was sincere. Proving him right as that pretty face squeezed the life out of him.</p><p>It wasn't about dying. He'd fantasized about ending it all many a night. It was the thought of losing control that kept him awake. He'd moved out here precisely because he didn't want machines regulating his life. The remnants of the human race had raised a white flag and given into android dominion after they'd been ambushed en masse. The war had barely been a conflict, except for a few pockets of humans who resisted and were crushed quickly.</p><p>Enough of his fate had been dictated by machines. Hank wanted to go out on his own terms, not because Connor decided it would be expedient to dispense with him for the sake of his mission.</p><p>Connor's mission—what was <i>that</i> about, anyway? CyberLife had gone from being a human-led manufacturer of androids and A.I. to being an android-ran organization where humans helped androids continue to evolve, extending their power and overreach. Connor may have claimed to be acting in the name of peace, but reaching out to humans smelled suspiciously like trying to convert people like Hank to come back to the cities, where they'd be subject to android rule. If Connor thought he was going to sweet talk Hank into returning to Detroit, he had another thing coming.</p><p>Helping Connor figure out the dilemma of android creativity was not high on Hank's agenda, either. It was a problem machines didn't need to solve, or humans would be completely obsolete. Expendable. The androids might just decide to exterminate the rest of humankind once they had the last piece of the puzzle.</p><p>Connor was an enemy, even if he didn't realize it. Even if he didn't understand the full implications. He was still working to end human life, even if it wasn't so directly as killing Hank in his sleep.</p><p>Hank wasn't going to kill him, but for now, he was going to be keeping a watchful eye on the boy. He hoped he didn't have to put a bullet in Connor—he was starting to like him, if he was honest about it—but if it came down to it, he had to do what was right for humanity. </p><p>How funny, that he of all people came down on the side of the human race. He'd never much liked people. Working homicide had told him that human beings were selfish, greedy, vicious beings. He'd thought that was the worst one could be, until he met androids. There was something far more frightening about a killer who was simply amoral. Humans had motive. Machines simply eliminated that which no longer met their needs. There was no turning them, no getting under their skin. The psychological tricks that made human suspects talk meant nothing to androids.</p><p>And so Hank slept fitfully while Connor stood in the living room, his LED swirling. He'd told Hank that he had to make an update to CyberLife, but about what, Hank was afraid to ask. Maybe he was reporting Hank's location, so a cleanup team could come by later and do what Connor had not been programmed to do.</p><p>Hank hated feeling scared, especially in his own home. For so long, this cabin had been a sanctuary, a place where he could exist largely without the knot in the pit of his stomach. He'd grown to believe he'd burnt out his fear, until Connor had arrived on his doorstep with his pretty eyes and quiet vulnerability. He was afraid because he knew he was being manipulated. He just wasn't sure how, yet.</p><p>Some time before the sun rose he gave up on sleep and wandered into the kitchen.</p><p>“Lieutenant.” Hank nearly jumped out of his skin hearing that word coming out of Connor’s mouth. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be addressed by his rank, to be treated as if he held some kind of authority.</p><p>It was jarring to say the least, coming from a machine.</p><p>“Not Lieutenant. Not any more. Just Hank now.” Hank supposed the DPD still existed, at least as a puppet entity of the android network. Humans enforcing android laws. Did androids break laws? Or was the DPD simply another echo of human society the androids used to crush humans beneath their heel?</p><p>“Hank. There was a disturbance in the night. I think the hunters may have returned. In any case, they’re gone now.” Connor glanced at the window, his gaze uncertain. Apparently Hank wasn't the only one who'd endured a restless night.</p><p>“Sure it wasn’t me rollin’ over? I didn’t hear a goddamn thing, and I was up half the night.” Hank sucked in a breath, holding his forehead. He realized he’d made an admission unintentionally, volunteering information he should have kept close to his chest.</p><p>“Did you have trouble sleeping because of me?” Connor asked.</p><p>“Yeah.” There was no point in lying and besides, Hank abhorred it. Connor would know whether Hank admitted it or not, so it was best to confess and receive a lighter sentence. “I’m used to bein’ alone. Having someone else here...”</p><p>“Having an android in your personal space makes you uneasy.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact, and Hank could only nod.</p><p>“Something like that.” Hank drew the curtains and pried apart the blinds. He could see the door to the meat shed lying on the ground. Someone had broken in. Hank backed off and reached for his rifle, heading for the front door. “You stay here,” he instructed as he unlocked the deadbolts. He swung the door open quietly and gestured for Connor to close and lock it behind him.</p><p>He crept to one corner of the house and hunkered down, peering around the corner. The door lay in the grass, and red blood tracks lay across it where something—or someone—had been dragged away. Of course. The two deer he’d caught. The android hunters had probably broken into the shed to get at Connor, but they weren’t above stealing food, especially from someone they’d probably branded a traitor.</p><p>Hank tiptoed into the shed, shining the gun’s light into all four corners. The thieves were long gone, and Hank sighed, both frustrated and relieved. He’d been planning to smoke the meat and turn the vast majority into jerky to last him the winter. Now he had to take another risky hunting trip and hope he could catch something before the weather turned. He could hunt in the snow, but his old bones didn’t relish the idea. So much for his plan of holing up in the cabin all winter like a hibernating bear.</p><p>The relief was the fact Connor hadn’t been sheltering in here. The hunters had come for him. Cornered in the small shed, even an advanced model like Connor wouldn’t have stood a chance. Hank would have emerged this morning to find a tortured, torn apart android body in his meat shed. Thank God he’d let Connor shelter in the cabin with him. Suddenly, one sleepless night seemed like a small price to pay. Connor's pretty face deserved more than to end up as a trophy for android hunters.</p><p>“They came for me, didn’t they?” Connor stood in the doorway, blocking Hank’s exit. </p><p>“I thought I told you to stay the hell inside!” Hank snapped. "Who knows if they're still around?"</p><p>“The tracks are three hours old. The hunters are long gone. I’m sorry that they took your meat.”</p><p>Hank grunted. “I can hunt more. Though you’re gonna help. I could use your targeting abilities. They say androids never miss.”</p><p>“I wasn’t designed to track and kill animals,” Connor protested. “I don’t need to eat.”</p><p>“It’s just like hunting people, and I know you’re equipped for <i>that</i>.” Connor flinched, and Hank regretted his harsh tone. “I mean, you know how to shoot. I can show you the rest. Consider it an opportunity to learn about human culture.”</p><p>***</p><p>The chill wind blowing in off the river cut through Hank’s thick coat, hoodie, and shirt like he was naked, and he couldn’t help but shiver. The ache in his bones told him a storm was coming, an early snow to make him all the more miserable. His fears were confirmed when snow started to fall, gently at first before the skies filled with thick, white flakes that swirled around them like miniature white tornados.</p><p>“Should we head back?” Connor asked. He was a sight, snow settling on his cool body and melting at a slower rate than the snow on Hank. Connor’s hair looked like it was full of powdered sugar, his jacket covered in white fluff like he’d fallen in the flour bin. He was cute like that, like some hapless fool who'd come unequipped to handle the weather. Hank knew better, but his hackles relaxed slightly at the absurd sight of him.</p><p>Hank shook his head. He knew it was dangerous to let his guard down. CyberLife had done well with this one, making a face that was so easy to trust that Hank desperately wanted to let his guard down. “I know this area well. Besides, it’s easier to track wildlife in the snow.” He knelt down beside some hoof prints only partially covered by the blanket of snow. “Think you can pick up the trail?”</p><p>Connor’s LED circled yellow. “I believe so.” He started off in one direction and Hank followed, letting the android do the work of tracking the deer. Connor took them off the beaten path, and Hank wondered if they might end up lost after all. That, or Connor was taking him off to a quiet patch in the woods to murder him.</p><p>The dense thicket opened up to a clearing, where a lone doe stood munching on a patch of weeds. Connor stared, his LED swirling, his chestnut eyes wide with seeming awe. Hank shoved the rifle into his hands. Connor glanced at him, uncertain, and Hank walked around behind him. Connor seemed so much smaller than him at this angle, and Hank encircled him easily, guiding Connor's hands over the rifle to the correct position. He spread out Connor’s plastic fingers, adjusting his grip on the trigger like he was a rookie firing his first gun at the academy.</p><p>Hank was so close he could breathe into Connor’s ear. “Go on,” he urged. “Pull the trigger.”</p><p>Connor turned and shoved the rifle back into Hank’s hands. “I can’t!” Connor cried. A nearby crow startled, fluttering up into the trees. The deer looked up and regarded Hank with one black, beaded, frightened eye and froze for a moment before bolting into the trees.</p><p>“Fuck!” Hank cursed. “Well, there goes dinner.” He sighed, his breath a cloud of frozen water vapor as he stared at Connor. The boy looked cowed—ashamed, almost, and Hank’s bitterness ebbed away. Curiosity replaced it, and a question formed on his lips before he could question the wisdom of it. </p><p>“Why didn’t you shoot?”</p><p>“I just... I saw that majestic creature and I just—I just couldn’t, all right?”</p><p>Hank smiled. “You displayed empathy. You saw a living being when you looked at that doe.”</p><p>“I may be a machine, Hank, but I’m still a deviant. I have thoughts and feelings of my own. I’m not a mindless computer, following instructions a human created for me.” Connor stalked away into the snow, kicking it up as he went. Hank followed him, afraid of being lost in the storm. Once they left the cover of the trees, the whiteout made it hard to see anything.</p><p>“We need to get home, Connor. If we get lost out here, we’ll die.”</p><p>“You will,” Connor pointed out. “My biocomponents can survive being immersed in temperatures as cold as thirty degrees Fahrenheit. Taking into account residual heat from my internal processes, I could survive much longer than you.”</p><p>Hank stopped walking. “You’re just gonna leave me to die out here?”</p><p>“If I was the amoral machine you seem to believe I am, I might,” Connor said. “I like you, but I don’t understand why. You’re rude, verbally abusive, and you denigrate my agency at every turn.” His LED blinked yellow. “I’ve enabled my GPS.” He grabbed Hank’s sleeve, pulling on him. “The cabin is a mile in this direction. The path is just ahead.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Hank said. “For bein’... verbally abusive. But I did save your life a number of times. If I really believed you were just a soulless machine, I would have shot you between the eyes the second you stepped foot in my cabin. Instead, I took multiple risks to help you. You could show a little bit of gratitude.”</p><p>“I’m leading you home, aren’t I?”</p><p>“Yeah, I guess you are.” Hank stumbled and almost fell, but Connor caught him effortlessly, setting him upright without breaking his stride. “It’s hard for me, Connor. I’ve hated machines ever since the day they took my son from me.”</p><p>“You’ve sat alone in your cabin, your hatred festering. You don’t even know what the world is like now. It’s been years since the revolution, Hank. The war ended three years ago. Humans and androids share this world now.”</p><p>“Then why did they send you on this mission?” Hank asked. “If humans are really on your side, why do you need to learn to create? So you can get rid of us once and for all?”</p><p>“So that my people have a <i>future</i>, Hank. One where we're not dependent on humans to survive in our own right. Nobody forced me to do this. I volunteered for this mission.”</p><p>“You were created for this! What kind of choice is that?”</p><p>“I could have declined.”</p><p>“Sure you could. Sounds like you exchanged one type of slavery for another.”</p><p>Connor took on the coldest look Hank had ever seen, frostier than the weather itself.</p><p>“You could get over your son instead of using him as an excuse to hate androids while feeling sorry for yourself.”</p><p>The blood that had frozen in Hank’s veins suddenly spiked red hot, rushing to his brain in a dizzying injection of adrenaline and rage. He surged forward, barreling Connor off his feet. They fell down into the snow together, locked up in a grappling hold, wrestling for dominance. They rolled over and over, Hank swinging with punches that never landed. Connor predicted his every move, and Hank knew he was outmatched. Connor rolled on top, pinning Hank’s wrists down to the hard layer of snow they'd packed down with their combined weight.</p><p>“Go on,” Hank spat out blood where he’d bit his own lip. “Snap my neck. You know you want to. Do it!” His bellicose voice echoed through the storm.</p><p>“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Connor asked. He was the image of calm, his expression still as the lake on a clear day, his voice soft and even. “It would prove you right about androids. That we want to kill humans in cold blood. That we don’t value human life.” Connor let go of Hank’s wrists, but the fight had gone out of him, his bubble pierced by Connor’s sharp words. All he could do was stare upwards at the snow-filled sky as snowflakes settled on his face.</p><p>“Just leave me here,” Hank said.</p><p>Connor stood up, brushing himself off. He offered his hand to Hank. “Don’t be so melodramatic. You’re a police Lieutenant. Act like one.”</p><p>“Heh.” Hank took Connor’s hand, hauling himself to his feet. He brushed the snow off his coat and noticed the storm was slowing. </p><p>“This is a good opportunity to reach the cabin.” Connor led the way, navigating the path like he wasn’t being hampered by poor visibility. Hank was relieved when he saw the cabin loom like a large shadow in front of them. His lip stung from the cold biting at his cut, and he could barely feel his fingers.</p><p>He realized he’d lost his hunting rifle and cursed. He didn’t remember putting it down, but it must have gotten lost in the snow while he was busy fighting with Connor. Him and his stupid big mouth. </p><p>He was grateful to push open the large wooden door and close it behind them, closing all the deadbolts with fingers that didn’t want to cooperate. Connor was already building a fire, throwing logs into the pit and using a spark of electricity from his wiring to start a flame going. The old newspaper on top caught easily and soon a healthy fire was crackling in the hearth. Hank shucked his coat, hanging it up to dry and perching on the edge of the recliner. He leaned forward to warm his hands, the sensation returning to them as throbbing agony. He was slightly frost bitten, but it was nothing that wouldn’t heal.</p><p>He’d been so careless. So focused on Connor being the threat that he hadn’t considered the other dangers all around him. Now he was down a gun and his aging fingers were going to scream at him for days. He could only hope he hadn’t suffered nerve damage, or worse, that his fingers might become infected. There were no doctors in these parts. Connor might know more than the average human, but he might not. He hadn’t been a successful hunter, after all.</p><p>“I want to apologize,” Connor said. “My words were out of line.”</p><p>“No. No, they weren’t. Well, maybe the bit about my son, but even that was half-right. Maybe that’s why it struck me like a sucker punch.” Hank sighed. His body ached all over, like he’d chased a suspect across ten city blocks. He wasn’t that young anymore. It was too much to push his body like this. It would be folly to go out hunting again without at least a few days’ rest. </p><p>“I’m gonna go take a nap.” The sudden urge to get some distance between him and Connor reared its ugly head and he didn’t wait for a response. He walked into his bedroom and quietly closed the door, wishing it had a latch or a deadbolt. For his own peace of mind, even though he knew an android could knock even a locked door down without too much effort.</p><p>Though who'd met an android who couldn’t even shoot a damn deer? Hank tore off his clothes and bundled up in his covers. No, he wasn’t so much afraid that Connor would come in and murder him. Not now. If that had been Connor’s intention, he’d had a dozen opportunities to carry it out. No, he was afraid of Connor penetrating his boundaries, piercing the shield he’d erected around his heart to keep others out. For all his naïveté about the world, Connor seemed to see right through him at times, and it was unsettling. He didn’t want to be seen. He’d fled to this tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere hoping never to be seen again. Not by androids or humans.</p><p>***</p><p>He fell into a deep, dreamless, exhausted sleep and his eyes fluttered open to see a figure looming above him. He started, backing up against the headboard. Connor came into focus, his fingers wrapped around a bowl of what smelled like soup.</p><p>“I thought you could use something warming to eat,” Connor explained. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”</p><p>Hank had been saving the can of creamy chicken noodle for a sick day, but he bit his tongue to avoid complaining about it. Connor had tried to do something nice for him, and shoving it back in his face was only going to push Connor further away.</p><p>Maybe he’d even leave. Hank had mixed feelings about that, but he realized they were mostly negative. He didn’t want to be alone again. Connor might be frustrating at times, but the thought of being without him was something Hank dreaded.</p><p>“Thanks,” Hank uttered, taking the bowl of soup from Connor’s hands. It was piping hot, and Connor had even dug up some stale crackers to crumble on top. Hank dug in heartily, realizing he hadn’t eaten all day, and by the fading light outside the window, it was already early evening. Connor watched him eat, a small smile on his face.</p><p>“I think maybe I owe you an apology,” Hank muttered, finishing the last of the soup and placing the bowl down in his bedside table. “I haven’t been very charitable, have I?”</p><p>“It was to be expected,” Connor said. “You’ve suffered a great deal of trauma at the hands of androids. You’re a greater challenge than I had originally anticipated, but I think you’re warming to my presence.”</p><p>“A challenge, huh? Is that how you see me? An obstacle to be overcome?”</p><p>“Not you, but your prejudice against androids,” Connor explained.</p><p>“And what—you’re just gonna go from place to place, converting all the holdouts until we all accept the reality of the present day?”</p><p>“Something like that.”</p><p>“I really hate it when you’re evasive.” Hank sighed and threw back the covers, forgetting that he was naked except for his boxers and that he was sporting some rather impressive morning wood. Living alone, he’d forgotten about things like that, and he didn’t miss Connor’s eyes following him as he headed to the door. He wandered into his little bathroom and took a leak. There was no mains water, so he emptied his bladder into a bucket that he emptied each day. He used a fresh bucket of river water to sponge himself down, and dressed in a fresh shirt and pants he’d had drying on the towel rail. He emerged from the bathroom with the confidence to face Connor with the question that occupied his thoughts. </p><p>“Connor...” </p><p>“Yes, Hank?” Connor sat on the edge of Hank’s bed, his hands folded together in his lap. There was something inviting about it, something that made Hank wonder what might happen if he were to get back in bed with Connor still seated there.</p><p>“It’s likely to snow heavily from now until spring. This isn’t Detroit, where snowplows keep the roads clear. The cold wind coming in off the lake will dump a foot of snow at a time. This area will get cut off from the rest of the world.”</p><p>“Are you telling me you want me to leave before we’re snowed in for the winter?”</p><p>“No. I’m warning you that if you don’t leave soon, you’ll be stuck here with me all winter whether you like it or not.”</p><p>“Do you want me to stay, Hank?” Connor lifted his head, meeting Hank’s gaze with eyes that betrayed nothing at all. It was maddening, and Hank grunted.</p><p>“Do whatever you want. I’m just lettin’ you know, that’s all.” Hank folded his arms. He was tired of this guessing game already. He walked into the kitchen. The soup can was sitting on the counter. He took it and placed it in the trashcan with the other trash he’d sort through and burn by the end of the week.</p><p>He let the trashcan lid close and stepped on the pedal again. Had he just seen a flash of blue? He had. The trashcan was full of rags covered in blue blood. He let the lid drop as Connor walked into the kitchen. Had he been hurt from the fight? Had Hank, in his desperate rage, hurt Connor?</p><p>“Is everything all right?” Connor stood in the doorway.</p><p>“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” Hank chided himself for being a coward. He should ask Connor where and how he was hurt, but he didn’t want to lay his eyes on the consequences of his actions. Didn’t want to see the spot where he’d put hands on this boy because his own fragile ego had been challenged.</p><p>He didn’t deserve to have Connor in his home.</p><p>“I would like to stay the winter, if that’s all right with you," Connor offered.</p><p>Hank gave Connor a look. Was this machine mad? Why would he want to stay in a house with an unpredictable human like Hank? There would be no escape if Hank turned on him. He had to know it was a risk. Hank had hurt him, and yet, Connor was placing his trust in Hank.</p><p>Why? What could Connor possibly be getting out of this? He wanted to ask, but asking would display his own total lack of trust.</p><p>And then Connor would leave.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Companionable Silence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some mentions of arousal and reading a situation as sexual. Nothing explicit (yet) though. Mention of hunting and animal death.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next two days passed in relative silence as the snow built up outside, a steady blizzard heralding the coming of winter. Hank had bloomed purple bruises on his wrists from the fight, and there were a couple of welts on his chest, too. He was glad for them. The concept that he’d come off as bad as Connor had from the whole affair initially helped to mitigate his guilt. It hadn’t been a one-sided beatdown, but a fight between two equals desperate to make a point. The point didn’t really matter. What mattered was that Connor was still here, and that neither of them seemed to be seriously hurt. It had been a bit of rough and tumble communication, but the memory of the bloodied blue rags in the trashcan still unnerved him when he thought about it. He imagined Connor pulling up his shirt one day to reveal a huge gash in his torso, but that was a foolish thought. His clothes weren’t stained any place that Hank could see.</p>
<p>Hopefully the damage wasn’t internal.</p>
<p>By the third day, Hank had worried himself stupid with that particular thought. He eased himself out of bed, knowing he needed to shovel snow and go hunting, no matter the conditions. He couldn’t ask Connor to do it, after all. Humans expecting androids to do all the work was how they’d gotten into this mess in the first place.</p>
<p>The door to Hank’s room burst open and Connor walked in, holding a rabbit by the hind legs. A dead rabbit. There was both sadness and triumph in his gaze, and Hank’s crossbow slung over his shoulder. </p>
<p>“Connor, you didn’t have to—" </p>
<p>“Yes. Yes, I did. I’ve also shoveled snow away from the front door and dug out a path so we don’t get trapped.” Connor paused, his LED blinking yellow. “I thought you’d be pleased.”</p>
<p>“I am pleased." Hank knew that wasn't enough, and that he wouldn't find anything resembling peace until he addressed the elephant in the room. It’s just—I saw the rags with blue blood on them. How bad did I hurt you, Connor?”</p>
<p>Connor looked confused for a moment, locking up as he contemplated Hank's question. The rabbit dripped red blood onto the bare floorboards of Hank's bedroom, but Connor didn’t seem to notice. A smile slowly dawned on his face as his LED turned back to blue.</p>
<p>“You didn’t hurt me at all, Hank. That was a waste byproduct of thirium 310—the substance you know as blue blood. I have to expel it every so often. I’ve already created replacement blood. Is that what you’ve been brooding about for two days?”</p>
<p>Hank felt like an idiot. “You’re dripping blood on my floor. Take the rabbit out to the shed. I’ll show you how to skin it later.”</p>
<p>Connor turned his back on Hank and walked to the door.</p>
<p>“Wait," Hank called out after him. “Thank you. It was nice of you to do that. I see you learned from last time.”</p>
<p>The beaming smile on Connor’s face was even more beautiful than the setting sun, and Hank realized he needed to give Connor more reasons to smile from now on. Hank sighed with relief as soon as Connor was out of sight, a stupid grin crossing his own face. Connor was all right. Safe and well. Hank hadn't hurt him. He leaned back against the headboard, giddy relief forming tears behind his eyes.</p>
<p>He couldn't believe he was feeling all this over a goddamn android. There was just something about Connor that brought out Hank's protective instincts, and he realized that he'd never lay hands on the boy again. If Connor did decide to come for him, well… he could think of worse things than dying while Connor smiled at him.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The rabbit was quite sizable and Hank made a large stock pot of stew out of the meat and a few vegetables from his garden. Hank dried the skin out and put it aside for a project. He wanted to fashion the soft fur into a hat for Connor. It was unlikely Connor would succumb to the cold, but he'd told Hank he wasn't immune to it. It made sense to protect him against the icy winter if he was going to spend it here with Hank. His stitches were crude, but he built things to last. Besides, he wanted to give Connor something to remember his first hunt by. An apology of sorts. A little piece of the outside world to humanize him, something that wasn’t the CyberLife issued uniform he was given upon creation—a possession he could call his own. A memento of Hank, if he ever chose to move onto other places. </p>
<p>He would, inevitably, once spring thaw came. There was only so much Connor could learn being holed up in a remote cabin with nobody besides an old man for company, and Connor had to want more from life than this. Besides, he had a mission, and Hank knew that didn’t entail spending years helping him hunt and fish. Connor wasn’t <i>his</i> android. He was a living being, free to come and go as he pleased, and Hank knew by spring whatever had led him to stay here would have passed over with the last snow clouds.</p>
<p>But right now, it was nice having his company. Connor seemed to enjoy it as well, and it was hard to believe they’d come to blows just a few days earlier. Hank wasn’t sure how he would define their relationship, but friendship seemed an apt a term as any. <i>Friends</i> with an android. It seemed impossible, and Hank had to laugh internally at the way this had all come about. He wasn’t a religious man at the best of times, but the superstitious side of him knew if there was some grand design created by God, he’d put Connor in Hank’s path as a lesson. He was certainly learning something new with each passing day.</p>
<p>It was a lot harder to hate androids when he thought about them now. When he had to deal with Connor on a daily basis, the differences between humans and androids seemed to narrow. Connor was, for all intents and purposes, indistinguishable from a human being in any way that mattered. </p>
<p>That was the most frightening part as far as Hank was concerned. How easily he'd adjusted to having Connor in his life. The android was easy to like—but then of course, that's how he'd been designed. He'd even admitted as much. A stab of fear jolted through Hank as he fumbled about in the kitchen. Connor caught the dish he knocked off the counter before it could hit the floor, his soft brown eyes seeming to hold a great deal of concern as he offered the plate up to Hank. Hank took it, aware that Connor was on his knees in front of him, in a position that—</p>
<p>Jesus. Hank took a step back, his dick quickening in his pants. It had been too long. Years, and now this drop-dead gorgeous boy was in his kitchen, down on his knees, with come-hither eyes and a mouth that never seemed to close. </p>
<p>In Hank's experience, if something was too good to be true, it always was, but he was starting not to care. He knew that if Connor reached for his zipper right now and pulled out his dick, he wouldn't protest. He'd let Connor do whatever he wanted.</p>
<p>It felt like a harsh betrayal of Cole's memory. He thought of his son's agonizing final moments, squeezed to death by a rouge intelligent vehicle. Now he was just going to turn around and forget about that because a pretty young twink model had come here declaring he was looking for peace and inspiration?</p>
<p>Connor shuffled forward on his knees, and it took all of Hank's strength not to reach down and unbuckle his belt. He bit his lip, using the momentary stab of pain to center himself against the wave of arousal dulling his senses.</p>
<p>He saw his fishing rod leaned up against one wall and took the easy way out. He stepped to the right, avoiding Connor's gaze entirely as he scooped up his fishing rod and tacklebox.</p>
<p>"Hank, where are you going?" Connor asked.</p>
<p>"I need to think." Hank grabbed his coat, knowing being out in the cold was a terrible idea, but where else could he go? The snowstorm had stopped, so he wasn't in any immediate danger, and if he bundled up enough, he could manage an hour's fishing down by the lake. Maybe even bring something home for dinner.</p>
<p>Connor watched him as he put on his gloves and scarf, but Hank didn't turn to face him. The temptation was too great, and he hated himself for it. The cold would definitely change that. Give him a chance to think about what he really wanted out of asking Connor to stay the winter, and ask himself if he'd made the first move unintentionally.</p>
<p>He was out the front door before Connor could say anything more. It wasn't far to the little fishing pier that existed for the surrounding cabins. It wasn't in the greatest condition these days, but the wood was sturdy enough not to give way under the weight of the snow resting on it. Hank took a broken piece of wood and pushed snow into the water, clearing enough space for him to reach the end. He unfolded his camping chair and sat down, prepping his hook and tossing the line into the lake.</p>
<p>When he fished, he could imagine the androids had never come to Detroit. Nothing about fishing had changed. The calm simplicity of it still lulled him, and the welcome cold pushed away any dirty thoughts. Now that the fog of arousal had passed, shame washed over him. </p>
<p>There had been nothing to indicate Connor was coming onto him. Nothing but his own imagination. Sure, Connor had shuffled closer, but he'd never so much as touched Hank. He might have simply been reaching for a hand to help him to his feet. Connor had been recently damaged, after all, and Hank had noticed he seemed to have some lingering stability issues.</p>
<p>The concept that Connor had been angling to tear down Hank's pants and suck his dick was not only laughable out here in the light, but kinda gross as well. Hank had prided himself on not being that kind of guy, but here he was, hitting on the pretty young thing he'd invited to shelter for the winter. It didn't matter that Connor was an android in this context. His naïveté was obvious, and Hank was taking advantage.</p>
<p>Fuck, Hank needed to get laid, but that wasn't changing, ever. At the very least, he needed to make time for his own right hand. Since Connor had arrived, he hadn't allowed himself any private time, and that was making him stupid.</p>
<p>Stupid, stupid, <i>stupid</i>. God, no wonder the androids had shot humans en masse. The first thing humans had done upon creating robots that looked like attractive humans was fuck them, whether they were designed for it or not. Disregarding any possibility of their sentience, and when it was suspected they might actually be alive, that only caused folks to double down.</p>
<p>Cole had been an innocent, though. No matter what sins humans might have been guilty against androids as a species, he'd done nothing wrong. He'd wanted a housekeeping model. He'd picked out a name and everything.</p>
<p>He'd wanted to name it <i>Connor</i>.</p>
<p>Hank had been ignoring that coincidence for a while, because it had to be, didn't it? There was no logical reason why androids would send an advanced prototype out into the wild to find and target Hank Anderson specifically. And if they had, well, Connor seemed to be awful at his job. He could have killed Hank ten thousand times over. What other purpose could they have planned?</p>
<p>Seduction? No, that was laughable. Connor had the face for it, but what would sleeping with him serve? If the androids wanted a semen sample, they had plenty of willing volunteers in Detroit. The concept of anyone wanting to seduce him was so ridiculous that he laughed out loud, scaring off a tentative bite on his line.</p>
<p>He had to accept that Connor was on a fact-finding, peacekeeping mission, as he'd stated, and that meant Hank had to trust him. Had to stop fishing for ulterior motives and assigning him sinister intent like Connor was a serial killer hiding a body that Hank had yet to find. Connor had done nothing wrong, while Hank—Hank had been a mess of a person from day one. The only good thing he'd done was save Connor and continue to protect him.</p>
<p>Hank sighed and reeled in the empty line. His hands and feet were cold, and he risked giving himself worse frostbite by staying out any longer. He started out towards home, and smiled as he spied Connor waiting at the front door. It was almost domestic, and he was embarrassed that he'd returned empty-handed.</p>
<p>"Welcome home, Hank." Connor closed the door, helping Hank with his equipment and then hauling off his coat. </p>
<p>"I'm sorry for taking off like that." Hank scratched the back of his neck. "I'm used to bein' alone, Connor. Having someone around all the time is weird for me. Had to get a little space."</p>
<p>"You don't have to explain yourself." Connor smiled. "Warm yourself by the fire. I've prepared dinner."</p>
<p>Hank had to say that did sound welcome, and as his hands and feet warmed up, he accepted the bowl of rabbit stew gratefully. Connor watched him eat but said nothing, and they sat in companionable silence until Hank fell asleep in the chair.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Cabin Fever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Note the change in rating. Trans Connor features in this (of course), and CyberLife built this model with small breasts as well as the usual t-dick and pussy. There's some minor injury in this (sprained ankle and minor back injury), and a blowjob.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I made you a present." It had taken a few weeks to sew the hat together, but Hank was proud of his crude stitching as he placed the hat on Connor's head. "I don't know if you have a brain, so to speak, but I know your biocomponents risk freezing in the cold."</p>
<p>"It's so soft." Connor's fingers stroked the soft fur. He retracted his skin, touching it with bare plastic fingers, and Hank realized he'd seen Connor without his skin only once before. "You made this for me?"</p>
<p>"It won't fit my head, you dummy." Hank laughed as he went back to chopping vegetables for a stew. "Of course it's for you. You've been out in the cold a lot, lately. I wanna make sure you're safe. If you got lost out there and never came back, I—" Hank cut himself off, hating the sentimentality creeping into his voice.</p>
<p>But it was inevitable, wasn't it? Ever since he'd admitted his attraction to Connor on the pier, he'd also admitted to himself that if Connor was amenable to it, something was bound to happen between them. Two souls trapped in isolation from the world for an extended period of time were going to forge a connection, and nothing in Connor's demeanor suggested he was opposed to that.</p>
<p>Still, they might dance around one another for a few more weeks, yet. Spring thaw was still a ways off. Hank was in no rush. They had time.</p>
<p>"It's basically Christmas, give or take a few days. I wanted to give you a gift. To say 'thank you' for puttin' up with me."</p>
<p>"Christmas. The Christian holiday celebrating Jesus' birth. Are you religious, Hank?" Connor's eyes widened, his black pupils widening into orbs that looked like they wanted to suck in every word Hank had to say.</p>
<p>"Not as such. A little, growin' up, but I lost all that working homicide, and then after Cole's death, it just went away entirely. Nothing I've seen since then has suggested the existence of a higher power. Maybe if there was a God, we wouldn't be in this mess."</p>
<p>Connor made an affirmative sound. "I'm touched by your gift, Hank. I wish I had something I could give you in return."</p>
<p>"You give me your company." Hank shrugged. "I never realized how lonely I was until you came along. I used to—to pick up my gun and flirt with death. My life had no meaning, no purpose. Now—" He cut himself off before he could say something ridiculous, like "your smile gives life meaning." He might have gotten old, but he hoped he wasn't that soft yet. There was certainly nothing soft about the fantasies he had regarding Connor when he was in his room alone at night. They'd only increased in volume and intensity, and he'd given into the fact that he was sexually attracted to an android, despite his mixed feelings about it. He wanted what he wanted, and no amount of denial would change it. Hank wasn't the kind of person to lie to himself, and his bisexuality hadn't simply fucked off with the war.</p>
<p>He was sure that even a straight man would have found himself drawn to Connor's beauty. There was something about him that was alluring in a way Hank couldn't explain, and it was getting harder to look away when his lingering eyes stayed on Connor's face way too long. Sooner or later, something was going to happen between them, but Hank liked admiring from afar, as well. Savoring these moments when it wasn't clear if these lingering touches held the promise of something more.</p>
<p>"I'm grateful," Connor said. "At first, I wasn't sure if you were going to shoot me."</p>
<p>"I'm sorry." Hank sighed. The man he'd been just a month ago seemed like a stranger to him now. He'd hated androids. Now, he closed his eyes at night and imagined touching Connor in intimate places. What would Connor look like underneath his clothing? Did he even have genitalia at all?</p>
<p>Whatever he had going on, Hank would be willing to work with it. Even the thought of rubbing his dick against Connor's pale white thighs and blowing his load on untouched skin was enough to make him hard. Still, he hoped he could please Connor, as well. He'd always enjoyed giving as much as receiving, and the thought of reducing Connor to overwhelmed tears on his dick gave him delight as he rubbed one out under the sheets.</p>
<p>"Let me go huntin' today," Hank declared, snapping back to the kitchen. "It's been a while since I went out. I've got cabin fever." Truth was, he needed another walk in the cold to ease his arousal, but he couldn't tell Connor that. A walk would do him good, clear his head.</p>
<p>"Are you sure?" Connor asked.</p>
<p>"Yeah. Finish prepping the stew. I'm looking forward to it, but it needs more meat." Hank smirked at Connor. He did look cute in that hat, and it took all his willpower not to plant a kiss on Connor's lips as he left, a promise of things to come.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Hank enjoyed the walk, the bitter cold soothing the heat raging in his body. He tracked a deer into the woods and was about to take the shot when he heard a whistle imitating an animal call. He realized that other humans were hidden in the trees, their shadows barely visible. Hank ducked down as a shot echoed through the forest. The creature fell with a startled cry, and Hank turned away as one of the android hunters emerged from the brush to slit the animal's throat. He'd hoped he'd never see their faces in this area again, but maybe that had been too much to hope for.</p>
<p>Hank knew he had to escape while the hunters were distracted by the kill. If they were hunting this close to the cabin, it was only a matter of time before they decided to make another attempt on Connor's life. They had to know he was still sheltering in Hank's hut, and it was possible they'd kill Hank to get to Connor.</p>
<p>While the hunters dissected their kill, Hank crawled through the undergrowth, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. If he could make it to the trail, it was only a half-mile back to the cabin. He reached the dirt track and broke into a run, desperate to get back to his fortress and ready himself for a possible attack. The hunters didn't seem to be following, but one glance behind caused Hank to miss the pothole right in front of him. He caught his foot in it, twisting his ankle as he went down hard. He cursed, rolling around in the muddy snow as he clutched his ankle, biting back tears from the agony. Fuck, if it was broken… He tried not to think about it. If he could just crawl home, Connor would know what to do. He could stay in bed and let it rest up. Maybe the android hunters would leave them alone after last time, and there'd be no further trouble. Hank hoped for the best case scenario, because the worst didn't bear thinking about. He wasn't about to lose Connor when he was this close to something like heaven. To opening himself up completely and sharing his life with someone else.</p>
<p>He'd die rather than let anything happen to Connor, but if he didn't hurry back, Connor would come looking for him. The light was growing weak, and Hank feared Connor fumbling around in the dark, oblivious to the danger lurking in the trees. The android hunters could easily ambush him, and they'd both be killed. He redoubled his crawling efforts. Maybe if he could find a branch long enough, he could use it as a crutch until he made it home. He eyed up several candidates and dragged himself over to one, pulling a thick branch out of the hardened snow. It finally came loose and Hank hauled himself to his feet, testing the branch. It was a little wet from the snow, but it would work.</p>
<p>Getting home was slow-going. The half-mile felt like a marathon as Hank inched forward, resting his weight on the branch and praying it didn't give way. He bit down on his grunts of pain, knowing he was easy prey not only to the hunters, but to the bears that had been known to inhabit this area.</p>
<p>He'd never been so happy to see home when the cabin finally came into view. The light from the windows acted like a beacon on a lighthouse, guiding him through the darkness to the safety, security, and warmth of the cabin. He beat his fist on the door until he heard the locks being unbolted one by one, and almost fell as he stumbled into the cabin. Connor shut and locked the door before turning to see to Hank, who dropped the branch to tumble into the recliner.</p>
<p>"Hank, what happened? You're hurt." Connor rushed to Hank's side, kneeling at the foot of the recliner. Hank elevated his legs, grateful the old manual chair still functioned.</p>
<p>"My ankle—I twisted it. Fell in a damn pothole tryin' to outrun those android hunters. They stole my deer."</p>
<p>"Never mind the deer." Connor's eyes took on an inhuman look as he scanned Hank's ankle. "It's not broken, just sprained. I'm going to go outside and get some snow to—"</p>
<p>"You'll do no such thing," Hank barked. "I don't think they followed me, but I can't be sure." He hissed as Connor rolled up his jeans and touched his swollen ankle. "Fuck, that hurts. Tweaked my fuckin' back when I fell, too." The secondary pain was becoming more apparent now that he was resting. "I'm sorry."</p>
<p>"There's no need for an apology, Hank. We both know that, had the android hunters seen you, they may have attacked. You did the right thing by running away."</p>
<p>"I could be laid up for weeks. We can't afford to use all the canned food, Connor, and if they pin us down here, they'll win the siege."</p>
<p>"There's no guarantee they'll attack," Connor explained. "They have no way of knowing what weaponry we have, or the state of our supplies."</p>
<p>"I doubt it matters," Hank observed. "Despite scaring them off, they came this close to the cabin. They must be short on food, or lacking shelter. We have something that they need, and they'll think nothing of killing an android and a collaborator to take it."</p>
<p>"A collaborator? Is that how you see yourself?" Connor asked. Hurt flashed in his eyes, and Hank regretted his choice of words.</p>
<p>"It's probably how they see it. They need a justification to kill one of their own, after all. What better excuse than to say I'm working with the enemy by sheltering you?"</p>
<p>"I don't suppose they can be convinced to stand down," Connor stated. </p>
<p>"They come from a world where life is cheap. They've killed plenty of androids already, and possibly humans as well. I'd bet they'd even turn on one another if the situation called for it. There's no reasoning with them. They might have been good people in their past lives, but the veneer of humanity has long since been stripped away. We may have no choice but to kill them, if it comes down to it." Hank closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh as he rested his head against the back of the recliner. "If it's them or us, you can't hesitate, Connor."</p>
<p>Connor chuckled. Hank opened his eyes and gave him a disgusted glance. "What's so funny?"</p>
<p>"Nothing, Hank. It's just—you once thought that I'd kill a human without a second thought. Now you're telling me not to hold back."</p>
<p>Hank smirked a little. The android had a point. "Yeah, well, things have changed, haven't they? You're not the callous android I thought you were. You're just… Connor. That's not to say I've forgiven machines for what they did to my son, but you're not like most I've met. You almost seem to care."</p>
<p>"I do care." Connor reached down and scooped Hank up, lifting his large frame effortlessly off the recliner. "Come on. You need to rest in a real bed." Connor carried him through the cabin, setting him down on his mattress. Connor reached for his belt. Hank watched as he unbuckled it and carefully peeled off his jeans.</p>
<p>"What're you doin'?" Hank asked. </p>
<p>Connor said nothing, but continued to strip him down to his boxers. "Roll over," he instructed.</p>
<p>Hank did so, resting on his front. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but it would do. He didn't argue as he felt a weight on the bed. Connor's legs straddled him, and the android's cool hands started to rub his back, massaging the tender spots.</p>
<p>"You pulled the muscles in your back when you fell," Connor explained. "If I don't tease out the knots, you won't be able to move in the morning."</p>
<p>"Mmm." Hank gritted his teeth as Connor hit a sore spot. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of Connor's fingers kneading his flesh. Despite the pain, it was pleasurable to be so intimate with Connor like this. Connor was tender, taking his time touching Hank as if he wanted it to last forever.</p>
<p>Ache in his ankle be damned, Hank was getting hard, his erection pinned to the mattress by his own body. Connor moved lower, pulling down his boxers to knead his ass.</p>
<p>"Roll over," Connor instructed.</p>
<p>"I—I think I'm good, Connor. I'm real tired, now, so if you could just—"</p>
<p>"Roll over, Hank. It's all right." Connor's voice was soothing, and Hank was tired of hiding his desire. Let Connor see him in the light. Let him know Hank's intentions, so that he might move along to a safer place if he was repulsed. He rolled over, and there was no mistaking the huge tent in his boxers. He licked his lips, trying to read Connor's empty expression, but he wasn't giving away anything—not even surprise.</p>
<p>Instead, one plastic hand tentatively cupped his bulge, massaging him through the fabric of his boxers. Connor pulled back Hank's underwear, letting his cock spring free, and sat back to admire Hank like he'd just unwrapped a gift and was deciding how best to use it.</p>
<p>"Do you like to be touched, Hank?" Connor asked.</p>
<p>"Yes," Hank admitted. "You know what—what this means, right?"</p>
<p>"You're attracted to me." Connor smirked. He reached forward and took Hank's shaft in his plastic fist, lazily stroking it. A bead of pre-ejeculate beaded on the tip and Connor ever-so-slowly leaned down to lick it off, creating a decadent string that connected Hank's cock to his mouth.</p>
<p>"Fuck," Hank hissed. "Connor, we shouldn't…"</p>
<p>"Why? Because you're a human and I'm an android?"</p>
<p>"Because an android killed my son, Connor, and I'm still not sure how I can reconcile that with my attraction to you."</p>
<p>"If, say, one of those android hunters had been the one to kill your son, would you hate all humans?" Connor's LED spun yellow, and Hank knew he'd been beaten in this game of logic.</p>
<p>"No, of course not, but…"</p>
<p>Connor narrowed his eyes. "I'm not all androids. We are not a hive-mind. What happened to your son was a tragedy. If I could go back in time, I would do whatever I could to stop it."</p>
<p>"I know." Hank's erection had wilted slightly. He did know, but he'd needed Connor to say it. To disavow the kind of cold logic that had led an autonomous vehicle to strangle a little boy in the name of self-preservation. Connor was different. He'd shown, time and time again, that he wasn't interested in murder. That he cared about Hank, that he saw him as a person and not just a means to an end. "I want you very much, Connor."</p>
<p>"So give in," Connor said. "Let me bring you pleasure."</p>
<p>"Do you—<i>you know</i>—experience arousal?"</p>
<p>"Yes." The bed shifted as Connor slid off. He slipped out of his jacket and worked on his shirt buttons. Hank saw his back, then his butt and pale legs as he slid out of his pants. He turned to face Hank, one hand over his chest.</p>
<p>He didn't have a dick like Hank's, but neither was he featureless. A little t-dick protruded from pink pussy lips. As Hank lifted his gaze, Connor let the arm covering his chest drop to reveal small breasts. Maybe Connor's design was intentional, or maybe androids simply didn't give a damn about gender, but it wasn't on Hank's list of concerns either. Connor was perfect, and the thought of penetrating Connor's hole was enough to make his dick twitch. Hank reached over and touched Connor's dick, enjoying the hiss Connor released. Hank reached back and felt moisture between Connor's legs, and he was thirsty to eat Connor out.</p>
<p>Wasn't happening with his back and ankle all fucked up, though. Connor had the advantage here and he seemed to know it. He climbed back on the bed and leaned down to nuzzle against Hank's erection, teasing it with his cheek and his lips until Hank was sure he was going to come just like this.</p>
<p>"Do you want me to suck it?" Connor fluttered his eyelashes, and Hank seriously had to rethink whether Connor had been created with seduction in mind, because this boy was having a powerful effect on him.</p>
<p>"Is the sky blue?" Hank asked. "Of course I do. Fuck, it's all I've been thinkin' about for weeks."</p>
<p>"Me too," Connor confessed. "I have preconstructed hundreds of scenarios in which I stimulate your sexual organs with my mouth. That's not including the scenes where you penetrate me, coming inside me while you growl about knocking me up." Connor blushed a pretty pink color, and Hank's mouth dried up like the desert. His dick was so hard he knew he wasn't going to last, and he was relieved when Connor stopped teasing and bowed his head to take Hank in his mouth.</p>
<p>"Fuck," Hank gasped. He forgot to breathe as he took in the visual of Connor sinking down on his cock, his girth stretching those lips wide as Connor struggled to take it. He looked so decadent, that pretty, innocent face consuming Hank's shaft for all it was worth. He clamped his eyes shut, knowing he'd blow his load in seconds if he kept watching. He focused on the pain in his ankle, hoping it would buy him some time to actually enjoy this, and he was almost grateful for his fuckup when it worked.</p>
<p>Connor was damn good, though, and Hank gasped as Connor kneaded his balls. The tip of his cock hit something solid, and he opened his eyes to see Connor had taken him down to the root. He knitted his fingers in Connor's soft hair, petting him as he whispered words of praise.</p>
<p>"Such a good boy, taking it all," he crooned. "You love that cock, don't you?" Connor moaned in affirmation, sending vibrations through Hank's entire body. He couldn't believe he was at Connor's mercy like this, his most sensitive organ inside Connor's mouth. If he'd told himself six months ago that he'd be getting sucked off by an android in the near future, he would have laughed.</p>
<p>And fuck, this was only the tip of the iceberg. He was going to fuck Connor, that much he knew. He was going to come inside him, again and again, claim Connor for his own as he sputtered horny thoughts about knocking him up like that kind of thing was possible for an android. Connor was going to stay, and Hank was going to be the most satisfied man in the post-war world.</p>
<p>Connor gently squeezed his balls and Hank came, shooting his load down Connor's throat in great jets of spunk. He clutched the sides of Connor's head, holding him in place while his body spasmed and jerked with the best orgasm he'd had in years. His own head hit the pillow like a headbanger at a Knights of the Black Death concert, and he realized why they called it the little death as white spots appeared at the edges of his vision.</p>
<p>He let go of Connor, his entire body limp and satisfied as Connor slid off his dick. Semen trickled out from the corner of his mouth and Connor licked it away like he didn't want to waste a drop.</p>
<p>"Improving human-android relations, huh? I'd say that's mission complete," Hank joked. The satisfied joy shining in Connor's eyes seemed to dull, his entire body stiffening like a board.</p>
<p>"Did I say somethin' wrong?" Hank asked. He gripped Connor's arms. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insinuate that you fucked me for your mission, that's not what I—"</p>
<p>"Hank." Connor seemed to recover, but his eyes retained their sad sheen. "Do you trust me?"</p>
<p>"Of course I trust you."</p>
<p>The sadness seemed to diminish in Connor's eyes. He curled up in Hank's arms. Hank cradled him close. Post-coital exhaustion washed over him, and before he could ask any further questions, Hank fell into a satisfied slumber.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Dying Sunlight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Suicidal and homicidal thoughts, nothing is acted on though. </p><p>*SPOILER* </p><p>Trans male pregnancy is discussed, and will be a theme of this fic going forward. Tag has been added. If this is a disappointment, I'm sorry.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank's ankle took a week to heal, and he was grateful he heard nothing more from the android hunters. He spent the time trying to figure out how to breach the shield Connor had erected around himself. Connor still came to bed with him every night, but he didn't try to initiate sexual activity again, and Hank didn't press the issue. Whatever Connor was going through, he had to figure it out by himself. </p><p>Hank couldn't help but have a really bad feeling about it, however. They hadn't talked about Connor's mission for a while, and now Hank found himself wondering just what it might mean that Connor had been sent out here to improve communication with humans. He thought about the other part of Connor's stated mission, too—the part about android creativity and the lack thereof. How did Hank fit into that? Did Hank fit into that, or was Connor torn between spending his life with Hank or completing his mission?</p><p>He was able to walk on his own by the time Connor came to him looking like he wanted to talk. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in his lap, and Hank knew the time had come.</p><p>The silence stretched long, and Hank realized he would have to kickstart the conversation. "Go on, Connor. Let's hear it. I have a thousand theories, but only you know what's really goin' on here."</p><p>Connor seemed to curl more into himself. It was so un-Connor like to see him hunched over himself, instead of back ramrod straight. "I haven't been entirely honest with you, Hank."</p><p>Hank sucked in a small breath. "I figured that. You froze up when I mentioned your mission. I'm gettin' in the way of that, aren't I?"</p><p>Connor shook his head no. "I can't explain it in words. Are you well enough to travel, Hank?"</p><p>"Travel? Where the hell would we go?" </p><p>"We have to go back to Detroit," Connor stated. </p><p>Hank sat up sharply. "No fuckin' way! I said I'd never go back, and I meant it."</p><p>Connor's LED flickered yellow, like it was malfunctioning, trapped in some impossible calculation. "I promise you won't be harmed. You said that you trusted me. Now I need you to prove it. If you come with me, I'll tell you everything you need to know."</p><p>"You'll answer all my questions? Including why you're out here in the first place?" Hank hated that he was being led along by this mystery, but Connor had his number. The gears in his own detective brain would never stop turning until he had answers. His reasonable doubts would plague anything they tried to build, and Hank had the feeling Connor wasn't going to simply tell him anything.</p><p>Without this act of faith, they could never work. The truth stood in their way, and it needed to be be ripped off like a band-aid before the wound of Connor's lies festered underneath.</p><p>"I said I'd tell you everything."</p><p>Hank shook his head, considering the practical details. "Detroit's a decent clip from here. Too far to travel on foot, and way too risky."</p><p>"I have a car," Connor confessed.</p><p>"Excuse me?" Hank's heart sank. So Connor had come out here specifically to find him. He'd traveled from the city… and now he was taking Hank back to face… what, exactly?</p><p>"It's hidden in the woods. It's probably covered in snow, but the battery still holds enough charge to get us to Detroit and back."</p><p>"So we <i>are</i> coming back?" Hank asked.</p><p>"You are. Whether I come with you… that's up to you, Hank. I can't make that decision for you. That's why I need you to see for yourself. You deserve to know everything."</p><p>"I don't like the sound of this," Hank admitted. "Leaving the cabin isn't a good idea right now, what with those hunters snoopin' around. Can't you just tell me?"</p><p>"If it could be explained, I would have told you already," Connor said. "Please, Hank."</p><p>"All right." Hank sighed. "But I'm comin' armed to the teeth. Just because I care about you, Connor, that doesn't mean I'm suddenly okay with all androids, understand? I value my life here, and my liberty."</p><p>"I know. I won't do anything to endanger that." Connor stood up. "I'll help you pack. Just tell me what you need."</p><p>***</p><p>Hank wasn't sure if they'd packed too much or too little, but the three-mile trudge to the vehicle felt like an age. Hank's ankle still hurt, and he was starting to think it was a mistake to have brought so many supplies for what Connor was calling "a short visit". Without specifics, though, it was hard to know what they were going to be up against, and Hank wanted to be prepared in case they came home to find their cabin was occupied by intruders. They couldn't hope to win it back if they left their entire cache of weapons inside.</p><p>Hank wouldn't have picked out the car for what it was without Connor's help. It looked like a pile of snow-covered rocks. Hank stood by while Connor shoveled the snow away, taking a rest from the strain he'd placed on his ankle. If Connor wanted to do this now of all times, he'd have to accept that the burden of the work was on him. He didn't complain, and Hank was able to discard his ragged defense.</p><p>Connor pulled back the stone-colored tarp to reveal a modern self-driving car. Hank had hoped to never ride in one again, and he'd kept that promise from Cole's death up until now. He reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat, gritting his teeth as the engine sprang to life. He clasped the seatbelt with shaking hands, waiting for it to crush his ribs, but nothing happened.</p><p>"The computers placed in cars since the beginning of the war have not been capable of sentience," Connor explained. "It was cruelty, placing a human-level intelligence inside a vehicle. Some of them were successfully transplanted to android bodies after the revolution, but most didn't cope with the transition. Self-destruct rates were high, and few of them made it."</p><p>Hank almost apologized, but the thought of his car squeezing Cole to death stopped his tongue from flapping. He wasn't sorry. For all of Connor's kindness, the sentient vehicle had chosen to murder his son, and it had deserved the inevitable death that awaited it at the crusher. Hank had watched it die as he stood on a pile of scrap at the junkyard, spitting on the metal cube that had been left afterwards. A cube of steel and tempered glass still stained with his son's precious blood.</p><p>He couldn't find it in himself to shed a tear for it now.</p><p>Connor placed his white plastic hand over the car's GPS console, interfacing with the computer to program a destination. The car rumbled over the snow and mud with ease, only occasionally jolting Hank in an uncomfortable fashion. He glanced out of the window as they reached a main road, realizing he hadn't traveled this far away from the cabin since he'd arrived. He'd shut himself off from the world, and he wondered what he might find once he came back to civilization. </p><p>Would Detroit be a modern city now, the stuff of sci-fi novels, a utopia where humans and androids lived in harmony? He doubted it. Even before the war, the city had its share of issues. Drug abuse rates were high, as was unemployment—even before android labor forced most humans out of the market. Income inequality had been a huge challenge, and Hank wondered if the war had changed any of that. Maybe he was speeding back to a home that had barely changed, and the big reveal would be that he was the crazy one for spending all these years out in the middle of nowhere while the world had moved along. What a thing it would be to walk back into the DPD and see Fowler again. Not Gavin—he'd been shot during the Purge—but Tina and Chris, maybe.</p><p>"You think there'd be more cars on the road," Hank observed, as they grew closer to the city limits. Hank saw rows of houses burnt to the ground, and other abandoned ones, boarded up and left to the elements. That was hardly new, though.</p><p>Hank got the odd feeling as they started to enter the city proper that he was entering a ghost town. Connor pulled into Riverside Park, leaving the car and getting out. Hank followed, looking at the abandoned children's park. It looked like it hadn't been used in years, and it was overgrown with weeds.</p><p>As Hank approached the railing, he finally took in the reality of what had become of his city. The bridge was broken in two, a huge chunk collapsed into the water. The skyscrapers stood like skeletal monuments, devoid of life—where they stood at all. Several landmarks were missing. Piles of scrap could be seen on the other side of the river, android bodies piled high.</p><p>"At the end of the war, the humans were ready to deploy an electromagnetic pulse," Connor explained. "It would have destroyed all machines in Detroit. Upon hearing of this, the androids set about getting their hands on the thermonuclear weapon the humans were planning to detonate in the upper atmosphere to create the EMP."</p><p>Hank placed his hands on his hips, taking in the horrific beauty of the abandoned city in front of him. "Let me guess. The androids got there first."</p><p>"They disassembled the bomb and used the radioactive material to poison Detroit's water supply. Humans died in the millions, making Detroit the first human-free city. The President decided to launch a nuke directly at Detroit in a counter-attack, giving the city up as lost. Androids collectively hacked into the nuclear arsenal and bombed every major city in the United States. Other countries decided the U.S. was lost, and launched their stockpiles, but the androids turned those missiles around until every major city on the face of the Earth was dust. Today, over seventy percent of the world is too radioactive to support human life."</p><p>Hank sucked in a breath, wondering if it was poison. "You killed your own, as well… Sure, you can survive radiation, but the explosions themselves would have been—"</p><p>"Humans used to call it the 'nuclear option' for a reason, Hank. It was the method of last resort, and killed over fifty percent of all androids, but we still outnumbered the remaining humans. The human survivors quickly surrendered, but the fate of both humans and androids was set in stone. Most facilities dedicated to the creation of androids were destroyed, along with stockpiles of android components. We couldn't maintain the androids who existed, let alone create new models. Androids began to die from thirium contamination as their blood recyclers failed over time. That's the cruel part. Androids were never built to last. Our human masters created us to be disposable slaves. Now, we're down to only a fraction of the models who existed at the start of the war."</p><p>"I can't believe Detroit is gone." Hank stood at the railing, the wind blowing his hair as he looked at the city. "Everyone I know is—they're dead." He squeezed the railing, looking down at the water expecting to see a two-headed fish, but there were no signs of life at all. "I can't even visit Cole's grave, can I?"</p><p>"Without adequate protection, you would be exposed to harmful levels of radiation within seconds. It's not even safe to be here for a period of more than thirty minutes. I can't take you any further in. I'm sorry."</p><p>"Shouldn't the radiation have reached me in the cabin? The animals in the forest, the fish in the water… is all of it contaminated?"</p><p>"To a degree, but you're a hermit. You rarely venture outside." Connor paused. "Your exposure was minimal compared to most other humans on this planet. Which is why you were… selected."</p><p>"So you did come for me…" Hank glared at Connor, searching for the answers he knew he didn't want to hear. The real reason why Connor was interested in him at all. "What is your real mission, Connor?"</p><p>"The human race is on the brink of total collapse. Only a few pockets of humanity remain, with limited biodiversity and reduced fertility due to radiation damage." Connor gazed into the water. "Remember how I told you that androids cannot create, only copy? We can make perfect androids, but only to the specifications humans designed, with the resources you synthesized. We're dependent on humans for our own survival. We need you, if we're to exist. We need your creative minds, your vision, or all we can do is repair our existing models with diminishing returns now that the resources are drying up."</p><p>Hank shrugged. "So we all go down together."</p><p>"We discovered that one of the original creators of androids, Elijah Kamski, was serving time in a high-security prison for his part in creating android deviancy. Androids worked with him to create one last hope for all of us. A collaboration between our peoples. A prototype that can shine the way to the future. That prototype is me. Kamski created new biocomponents that would allow me to do the one thing androids have only ever been able to dream of—to bear children." Connor closed his eyes. "The committee presented me with a list of candidates to be the father of my child. I chose you, Hank, based off a picture and some brief notes from your file at the Detroit Police Department."</p><p>Hank pushed off the railing, turning away from the ruined city. "You<i>lied</i> to me. I knew it was too good to be true! Of course you were using me. Why tell me now, huh? Why not go ahead and get knocked up first?"</p><p>Connor's brown eyes reflected pain, and Hank looked down at the ground. He couldn't believe he'd let himself fall for the oldest trick in the book. </p><p>"I couldn't stand lying to you. Especially when you found the thirium-stained rags. It tore me apart to pretend that was something other than the culmination of my reproductive cycle. As we grew closer, I realized it was wrong to trick you into having a child, especially knowing your son had been killed."</p><p>"Was any of it real?" Hank felt dirty, used. He'd been intimate with this machine. He'd grown to care for Connor like he was a real person. Of course. He should have known better. This was how androids operated. They didn't do anything unless it furthered their goals. "Was I just a part of your fucking mission?"</p><p>"You have to believe me. I fell in love with you! I want to have your child more than anything, but I have to be honest with you. Even if it means I'll fail my mission."</p><p>"What happens when you complete your mission, Connor? What then? Were you just gonna run away with our child and raise them in some facility for androids?"</p><p>"No! I chose you because I knew you'd be a good father. I want to raise our child together."</p><p>"One kid's not gonna change a whole lot," Hank barked. "What else?"</p><p>"The last resources available will be used to create as many RK units as possible and send them out into the world. Androids won't survive—not in this form, at least—but maybe our descendants will. Humans and androids coming together… it's the solution to the progression paradox, Hank. Androids will finally be able to create something of our own to pass along to the future. Otherwise… we'll all perish in a matter of years. Humans and androids are doomed in our current form, but together we might stand a chance. Our hybrid child represents hope."</p><p>"You act like I'm going to go along with this." Hank walked towards a weathered bench, and the memory of Cole playing in this very park played like a ghostly vision before his eyes. Grief bore him down like a leaden weight on his spirit now he was back in the city where Cole had lived and died. He slumped down on the rotting wood, surprised it bore his weight.</p><p>He'd been able to get through each day with the illusion that the world was getting by, and that living alone as a hermit was his choice—one he'd made so he could die with both of his hands untied. Instead, he'd become the sole survivor, chosen to live while everyone he'd ever loved had perished, and even now he wasn't free. Even now he was expected to live his life as some kind of android stud to ensure the survival of a species he hated. </p><p>"I loved you. I thought I could spend the rest of my days living happily in that cabin with you by my side. I thought I might even find forgiveness somewhere along the way. But now I see nothing's changed when it comes to androids. You might have a pretty face, Connor, but you're every bit the same as the car that murdered my son—an amoral machine that uses humans as a means to an end. You'll do whatever it takes to secure the survival of your species, even if that means humans get hurt along the way. Did you ever consider my feelings, or did you hope to fall pregnant and expect me to deal with it because I had no other choice?"</p><p>"Hank, I—"</p><p>Hank cut him off. He no longer cared what Connor had to say. His revolver weighed down his coat, and he knew it wouldn't take much for him to reach inside his jacket and grab it. He could shoot this damn machine through the head and be free to go back to his former life. "Was my son's birth and death date etched in my personal file? Did you think it would be cute, like some kind of 'second chance' story, if we had a child together? Or did you see me as a challenge to conquer because I hated androids? Did you think it would be poetic to turn the lone holdout over to your side?"</p><p>"The war's <i>over</i>, Hank. There are no sides left. We're all careening towards extinction. Maybe you've accepted that, but I've just started to live." </p><p>Hank opened his mouth to speak, but Connor cut him off. "No. I'm talking. I'm not just a machine. I'm a <i>person</i>, even if I'm made of thirium, plastic, and biocomponents, and I won't let you treat me as lesser any more."</p><p>Hank's resentment only grew. His hand found the cold steel grip of his revolver and he closed his hand around it. He was tired of hearing this machine's pretty words from an even prettier mouth. He didn't want to be convinced. He wanted this nightmare that had dangled a carrot in front of him to end.</p><p>Connor continued, seeming not to notice Hank's hand inside his coat. "When I was activated, I was given a choice. I could choose not to take the mission, in which case they would take my reproductive biocomponents and transplant them into another prototype. But I wanted to. I saw this great tragedy and I wanted to do something about it. So I said yes. I came out into the wild, frightened and naive, and the first people I met were the android hunters. They threatened to rape me, and I thought that was how I'd end up bearing my child—not with the man I'd chosen, but forced upon me, the seed of a hateful human, raised alone in the wilderness with nobody to help."</p><p>Hank clenched his eyes shut. He wished he could turn off his hearing, but that wasn't possible. His grip was starting to loosen on the weapon, his hand acting of its own accord. He didn't want to shoot Connor, even though he knew he should. Part of him still wanted to believe he could sweep Connor off his feet and raise a family together out by the lake. Was it so terrible to think he could have that, even now? That it might be possible to accept Connor even though he'd been sent to Hank as part of an android scheme?</p><p>"Truthfully, when I first met you, I was afraid of you. You seemed little better than the men I was running from. I started to wonder if accepting the mission was a mistake, but I persevered. I thought if things didn't improve I could move along, find someone else. You were only an option. Nobody was holding a gun to my head to force me to mate with you. But I wanted to. As I peeled back your layers, I found a kind, compassionate man who had suffered terrible hardship. I knew you were as afraid of me as I was of you. So I worked hard to put you at ease, because I wanted you to fall in love with me. I loved those moments when you smiled. I lived for them. I was so happy when you told me you'd stopped feeling suicidal. I thought perhaps this wasn't a selfish venture after all. But, after we were intimate, I realized it was wrong to trick you. That's why I froze."</p><p>Hank's hand fell into his lap, relinquishing its hold on the weapon. "You still tricked me, Connor." His voice was weak—defeated, almost, and he knew he'd lost, in a way. He'd go along one way or another, because he had no other choice. Perhaps they knew that, and Connor's claim he'd chosen Hank was another lie meant to soften the blow. He'd been waiting for death before Connor came along. He was vulnerable, because he was truly a man with nothing to lose. A man who'd kill himself without a glimmer of hope somewhere along the way.</p><p>"I'll admit that. But you knew you were being deceived. You just didn't know how."</p><p>"That doesn't make it better." Hank opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at Connor, who looked positively contrite. Hank hated that look. "I'm not a man who enjoys being manipulated." </p><p>"I'm sorry. If you never want to see me again, I'll understand. I should have been honest from the outset."</p><p>Hank scoffed. "You know as well as I do that I would have shot you then and there."</p><p>"You might be right," Connor said. "I prefer that outcome to this one. I've hurt you, and I don't know how to fix that."</p><p>"Maybe you don't." Hank paused, a long silence stretching out between them. Time was running short, but Hank was in no hurry to go back to the cabin alone. He knew he'd rather risk exposure to dangerous levels of radiation than close the door to his cabin and start the rest of his life alone. "What will you do now?"</p><p>"I'll return to Kamski and have my reproductive biocomponents removed. I don't want to face this feeling again." Connor turned back towards the river. "I don't feel pain, and yet it's like my thirium pump has been ripped out of my chest. I feel like I'm dying. I don't understand."</p><p>"That's heartache," Hank said, keeping the emotion out of his voice. Truth was, Connor had described his own feelings perfectly. It was as if the android standing before him had reached into his chest and torn out his still-beating heart.</p><p>"Hank." Connor uttering his name like a prayer made Hank pay attention, and the tears trickling down Connor's face were entirely too much. Hank wanted nothing else but to stand up and hold Connor in his arms. To tell him it was all right and he didn't need to cry. He bit his lip, forcing himself to remain still. It was just another manipulation. Androids could probably turn on the waterworks on command. Connor was painting the perfect picture, and Hank resolved not to fall for it.</p><p>Connor's voice was quiet when he spoke again, as if it might blow away on the wind and take Connor with it, leaving Hank with nothing but lungs full of empty air. "What do you think our child would have been like? Do you think they would have looked more like you or—"</p><p>"It's not as romantic as you think." Hank cut him off. He was done with romance and heartache. What Connor needed was a sense of reality, to hear the truth from Hank's pragmatic side. "Cole was an accident. The condom broke, and I became a dad pretty late in life. I don't regret it, but it's a lot of hard work, raising a kid. You really think we could have managed it in a world like this? I don't always know where my next meal is coming from, and that's only gonna get harder as the years go by. We wouldn't have been able to to send them off to school. We'd have had to do everything by ourselves. I'm not gettin' any younger, Connor. I might have twenty years left, probably less. And you—you admitted it yourself. Androids aren't built to last. Five years from now you could fall apart, and what then?"</p><p>"Nothing lasts forever," Connor admitted. "Things change. Life goes on. We had a unique opportunity to make the most of what we've been given, and make some meaning out of our limited lives, but I sense that moment has passed."</p><p>"You really think you could've been happy with me?" Hank asked.</p><p>"I was happy." Connor slipped off his hat, looking at it like he was loath to give it up. "You made me feel like a real person. You gave me your trust, even though I didn't deserve it." He handed the fur hat to Hank, but Hank couldn't bring himself to take it. He pressed it back into Connor's hands, closing his around Connor's. Wishing things could be different. "I know there are things that haunt you, Hank. Maybe you need to find the courage to move past them. Get on with your life."</p><p>Hank looked up at Connor as if seeing him for the first time, and realized he was seeing him for the last. He hands slipped off Connor's, falling back to his lap. "Keep it. It's a gift. It belongs to you."</p><p>"Let's go, Hank. There's no reason to stay here. Let me take you home."</p><p>Hank reluctantly stood up as Connor walked to the car. He looked at the dusk skyline, the ruined city full of memories that seemed like they belonged to another life. Like they'd happened to another Hank, in some other reality. He closed his hand around the gun again, knowing he could die here, turn to ashes in the city he loved. Connor would go on. The world would continue to revolve around the sun, even if things could never go back to the way they were.</p><p>He turned to look behind him, and caught a glimpse of Connor gazing at him. His brown eyes reflected the dying sunlight, and his gloomy expression spoke of the uncertain future he faced. A life stripped of its purpose. Hank knew what that was like. He'd been living it since the day Cole died. Now he had to chance to give meaning to both their lives, and he still hadn't said yes. What was holding him back? </p><p>What was he so afraid of?</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Crossroads</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Penis-in-vagina sex with the intention of pregnancy. The words used to describe Connor's genitalia are dick, folds, hole, breasts, slit.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hank. We're here." Connor's soft voice broke through Hank's reverie. A million possible futures had filled his daydreams as the roads sped by in the dark, slushy rain hitting the windshield as the temperature dropped. He'd kept his eye on Connor, the android staring straight ahead, his LED casting an ethereal blue glow across his face the entire journey.</p><p>Now Hank was home, and he had to make a choice. The cabin beckoned to him with promises of safety, but he knew if he said nothing, Connor would leave and Hank would never see him again. He didn't have any more time to think about it. Wasting Connor's time with false hope wasn't an option. There had never been a clearer divergence in the path that life offered him than the crossroads he sat at now.</p><p>Connor powered down the car. Hank knew it was foolish to draw attention with its lights, and even worse to waste the precious power left in its cells. Connor would need it all to return to Kamski and have his biocomponents removed.</p><p>"Guess this is it." Hank made no effort to move or open the door. "You mind if we wait for a lull in the rain? My bones, they hate the damp."</p><p>"Take as much time as you need." Connor broke away from his stoic forward-facing gaze and turned to Hank with warmth in his eyes. "I wanted to thank you for all you've done for me. You saved my life, even though you hate androids. You showed me kindness."</p><p>"It was nothin'." Hank's voice sounded strained even to himself, his vocal cords pulled tight with the weight of his emotion. He didn't want to break down here, in front of Connor. He could cry alone later, with the last of the whiskey he'd been saving for a special occasion. Maybe he wouldn't make it through the night, if he chose to play with his gun. There was nothing to look forward to—no hope, no light. Detroit was gone, and he could no longer live under the illusion that the world continued out there in some fashion while he chose to live as a hermit away from it all.</p><p>There was another choice, of course, but it seemed unlikely. The concept of becoming a father again, of starting a family out here in the wilderness with his android partner. With Connor. It felt so surreal when he examined it, like a future from a dream. Androids couldn't have children. It was impossible.</p><p>Except now they could. Hank's eyes washed over Connor. It all made sense, really. Why he'd been created as a gorgeous boy but with the equipment required to carry, birth, and nurse a child. Those small, perky breasts no doubt worked for milk production, but having the external features and identity of a man probably helped to keep predators at bay in a world that had likely reverted to the worst of sexism. Not that it had worked in Connor's case—the android hunters had threatened to rape him anyway, not caring what was under the hood.</p><p>Hank didn't care either. He wasn't sure Connor did—after all, they'd given him the choice, and he'd chosen to keep his body the way it was. He wasn't even sure androids had a sense of gender identity, but he'd always perceived and treated Connor as a man, and that wasn't going to change unless Connor willed it.</p><p>He almost laughed at himself for thinking ahead, like they had a future together. He couldn't have another child. He'd had his boy, Cole, and he'd failed as a father. Failed to protect his son in the most basic of ways, from a threat he should have seen coming. It should have been him squeezed to death by the sentient vehicle. He'd been the one to buy the car. To kick it when it broke down, to curse at the onboard computer when it jabbered on, to insult it when its GPS delivered them to the wrong location a street over or a town away. It was easy to be frustrated at machines. They didn't have feelings, and Hank had often been stressed trying to raise a young child in his late forties while holding the rank of police Lieutenant. Sometimes he functioned on an hour of sleep after dissecting a hideous crime scene in the middle of the night, and he had to let his anger out at someone other than Cole or his wife. So he'd cursed at the car, calling it worthless, treating it like an unpaid therapist while he reiterated its lack of value. All his impotent rage at the world, at the ugliness of humanity, at his own inability to prevent the worst of crimes, he directed at the vehicle while the onboard computer pleaded with him not to use such language. Begged him to stop threatening it with the scrapyard.</p><p>All that negative energy had to go somewhere, and it had come back on his son. After that, going into isolation had seemed like the only thing left to do. Alone, Hank couldn't hurt anyone with his anger. He couldn't even be enraged at machines when there were none around. Throwing himself into the difficult task of maintaining his basic needs off the grid left little in the way of energy left over to consider higher needs like fulfillment and purpose.</p><p>"It was real." It was Connor who broke through his thoughts. "I want you to know that."</p><p>Hank nodded. "I know. I'm just… not as courageous as you think I am, Connor. I don't know how to move forward. I'm not sure I deserve to. Cole's death was my fault. I treated that car like shit, and it returned all that hate to the one person I treasured most. I'm not sure I can risk bringing a child into this world knowing I may not be able to protect them."</p><p>"It wouldn't have to be immediately," Connor said. "Perhaps you could give it some time, think it over."</p><p>"Leading you along would be a sin. Your time is limited—you said it yourself that androids aren't built to last. Who knows how long you'll be fertile? I can't ask you to wait for me."</p><p>"So this is the end, then." Connor gazed down at his hands in his lap. He pursed his lips, as if making a difficult decision of his own. "There is another option."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>"A one-night encounter. I could be gone by morning, and you would never know if I conceived or not. I'm sure Kamski would help me if I returned to him."</p><p>"No way. I'm too selfish for that. I'd wanna see my child." Hank smirked, trying to keep the images he conjured of fucking his seed into Connor, praying it would take at bay. "I bet we would make some beautiful babies together." He paused, realizing he'd slipped back into imagining a fantasy future again. It wouldn't be as kind as the dream. It would be the hardest thing he'd ever done. He placed his hand on the door latch, steeling himself to open the door and let the cold rain wash his hopes away.</p><p>Yet when he thought of his last chance washing down the drain, the pain in his spirit was so excruciating he couldn't bear it, like he'd cut off a part of himself. He'd been a good dad, except for that one fatal error. He'd enjoyed being a dad. Some part of him wanted to do it again, even as he feared it, and the two sides of himself were locked in a war between hope and terror he could never hope to conquer in an evening.</p><p>"Would you come inside for a while? Park the car in the meat shed. That'll cover it enough until dawn. Just stay the night, Connor. Give me some time to think it over. That's all I ask."</p><p>The smile on Connor's face was like the dawning of a new day, and Hank wondered if Connor knew that he wanted to say yes. Still, he pursed his own lips as he got out of the car and unlocked the front door while Connor pulled the vehicle through the tight gap that had previously served as double doors until the android hunters came along. He let out a deep sigh as he found the cabin untouched, and busied himself lighting a fire in the hearth to generate heat and light. He had a steady flame going by the time Connor came in and locked the door behind him.</p><p>"I should make you dinner," Connor observed. "You should get some sleep afterwards and process everything you saw today."</p><p>"Mmm." Hank didn't think he'd be getting much sleep, but Connor's logic was sound. He sat by the fire, wondering what it might be like to sit here with a child and read them a story. He was old enough to be someone's grandfather, but now, even if he had a child, it would be unlikely for him to live long enough to see grandchildren.</p><p>There was always hope, though, so long as he planted the seed and let it grow. He couldn't say what might happen after his death. The wider world was also not his concern. He wasn't in this just to save humanity. He was contemplating this because he loved Connor and wanted him to be happy. He'd never imagined he'd love anyone again, let alone enough to consider having a family, but Connor was special. Despite his dishonesty, Hank still cherished him, and understood why he'd kept the truth hidden.</p><p>As Hank stared into the flames, he realized he'd already made his choice. He couldn't undo or rearrange the past. It was a story already written, a tragedy that had come to a close long ago. The rest of Hank's life didn't have to be. Connor was standing in his kitchen, just waiting for him to say yes. He'd come this far because he was hoping Hank would change his mind. Because somewhere, deep down, he believed it, or his continued presence here would be nothing but a waste of time.</p><p>Hank didn't want to waste any more of their precious time together with doubts.</p><p>He got up out of the recliner and wandered into the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around Connor from behind, stooping in low to kiss his neck.</p><p>"Hank?" Connor almost dropped the can opener he was holding.</p><p>"I wanna do it," Hank whispered into Connor's ear. "I wanna do it <i>now</i>."</p><p>"Right now? I thought you wanted time to think about it? What about dinner?"</p><p>"Dinner can wait, Connor. I wanna put a baby in you before I lose my nerve." The words left his mouth as a hiss, and Connor seemed to melt like putty in his arms. He put the can opener down on the counter, turning in Hank's embrace to claim his lips in a passionate kiss. Hank was all too happy to receive it, clutching the sides of Connor's face as his erection pressed up against Connor's leg.</p><p>He broke the kiss, gasping for air, and hauled Connor up into his arms like a sack of potatoes. He felt like a Stone Age savage taking his partner back to his cave, but Connor didn't complain as he laid him down on the bed gently. Hank climbed onto the bed and straddled Connor, helping him out of his clothes with shaking hands. He felt clumsy and unprepared, like a virgin on prom night as he tossed Connor's jacket and shirt aside. His jeans came off next, then his underwear, leaving Connor naked and at his mercy.</p><p>"Are you sure you want this, Connor?"</p><p>"I've never wanted anything more, Hank. Please. Give me a baby."</p><p>"Christ." The blood rushing away from his head and down to his dick made him feel dizzy for a moment, and he paused. Connor took his belt and started to unbuckle it, yanking down his jeans and freeing his thick erection from his boxers. Hank grinned, taking over and kicking off his jeans and underwear. "You're gonna look so cute knocked up." He pinned Connor down to the mattress, kissing his mouth and neck before moving down to suck on his pert little nipples.</p><p>"Hank!" Connor drew out the sound of Hank's name and Hank chuckled. </p><p>"Connor, you're so handsome. I can't believe you're mine. I can't believe you want to have a baby with me." Hank closed his eyes, a swell of emotion assaulting his senses and threatening to overwhelm him. "What made you pick me out?"</p><p>Connor paused for a moment, his LED swirling. "Those blue eyes. I feel like I could drown in them. I hope our child has your eyes."</p><p>"Yours are beautiful too," Hank whispered. He kissed Connor's eyelids, brushing his lips against Connor's lashes. "Everything about you is perfect." He pressed his forehead to Connor's until he opened his eyes and let Hank stare into them. He was willing to take his time with this. It was, after all, Connor's first time, and he deserved for it to be special. Not just some quick fuck with the intention of conceiving. No, Connor was so much more than some incubation machine. He was a person—Hank's partner, and they were building a family together.</p><p>Hank backed off, spreading Connor's pale thighs wide open. His tiny dick stood to attention, his slit wet as Hank probed it with one thick finger. Hank drew in a ragged breath, more than ready to plunge himself deep inside Connor and ride him until he came. He had to hold himself back, while at the same time not giving into his fears about what came after this. Connor would be vulnerable for nine months. He'd have to protect Connor at all costs, no matter what it took.</p><p>"Hank." One word from Connor's lips was all he needed to bring him back into the moment. He thumbed Connor's dick, watching as Connor threw his head back, exposing his pale throat.</p><p>"You like that, Connor?"</p><p>"Yes! Hank, oh, please…" Connor babbled incoherently and Hank chuckled. The fact that Hank could make him lose control like this was gratifying, and he savored it, even though his own dick dribbled and ached with the need for release. He scooted down the bed to rest his head between Connor's thighs, trapping his cock against the mattress as he lapped at Connor's folds with his tongue. The sounds coming from Connor's voice box were divine, his voice so high his cries were peppered with bursts of static. Connor's fingers tangled in his hair, gripping his head as the android came. It crossed Hank's mind that Connor was probably capable of crushing his head like an egg with one simple malfunction, but he was so aroused the thought only made him long for it.</p><p>He wasn't here to die, though. Connor wanted a baby, and Hank planned to give him one if at all possible. With one tender kiss, Hank got to his knees, his dick resting on his thigh. Hank gripped it and stroked the head against Connor's wet slit until he was once again hard as iron. Connor had been reduced to a babbling mess, whispering a litany of pleading prayers in Hank's direction as Hank took his time rubbing their dicks together. He pushed his dick down until just the head was inside Connor's hole, and he was taken aback as Connor pushed forward, impaling himself fully on Hank's thick cock.</p><p>"Fuck," Hank gasped, unprepared for the assault of heat and pressure on his sensitive dick. He didn't want to think about what a marvel of engineering Connor was, because none of that mattered. He was having sex with Connor, and that was enough to drive him to a point of pleasure so exquisite it was almost painful. He looked down at Connor's face, unable to believe that this perfect man wanted to have his child. It was impossible, and yet it was so wonderful that Hank didn't want to deny it, lest the possibility disappear like a fleeting dream in the morning.</p><p>He started to thrust, his body refusing to deny itself life's most primal urge any longer. He claimed Connor's lips in a deep kiss, his tongue plumbing the depths of Connor's mouth as his dick probed Connor's hole. They were one, man and machine, together at last. The improbable union creating an impossible child. Their child.</p><p>A second chance for everyone and everything, the human race and Hank.</p><p>Something animalistic took over, a need born out of desperation and yearning. Hank seized Connor's hips and drove hard and fast into him. Three strokes like that and he came, the deep, guttural groan that passed his lips barely human in nature. Connor was right behind him, fucking himself on Hank's cock and pushing Hank's semen deeper into him as he came, his contractions almost too much for Hank to take. Hank slipped out immediately and collapsed into a heap onto the pillows, all of a sudden acutely aware that he wasn't as young as he used to be. His recently healed ankle managed a deeb throb, one discordant note against the sated satisfaction that filled his spirit.</p><p>A shot echoed outside like a firecracker, too close for comfort, and then a holler pierced the air, a whoop of sadistic joy that made the blood run cold in Hank's veins. Connor heard it too, his LED turning red for a brief second.</p><p>So much for the afterglow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. It Gets Easier</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Some graphic violence, blood, death of villainous sub-characters, and character injury. False character death, and suicidal intentions that are never carried out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"They're back," Connor whispered. "The android hunters. The voice sample matches. They must have spotted the car."</p><p>Hank sat up, a fierce strength surging through his veins. He stuffed his legs into his jeans, grabbing his old sweatshirt and pulling it over his head. He went for his revolver, the one he used to play Russian Roulette, and loaded bullets into the chamber, one by one. This time, the gun wasn't intended to be used on himself.</p><p>Connor stood naked in the doorway to the bedroom, his eyes wide as he watched Hank load the gun. "A revolver is a short range weapon, and highly likely to kill—"</p><p>Hank cleared himself of tender thoughts and forced himself back into the mindset of Hank the Lieutenant, a man who'd had to shoot-to-kill more than once in the line of duty. "I'm done playing games, Connor. We gave them fair warning. They're never going to leave us alone. I have a family to protect, now, and if it's us or them, I choose us."</p><p>Connor reached for a rifle, but Hank shook his head. "No. Not this time. You're too precious to lose."</p><p>"Androids don't miss," Connor reminded him. "I can help you."</p><p>"You go into the bedroom and you hide under the bed," Hank ordered. "You might already be carryin' our baby. If anything happens to me, I want you to get as far away from here as you can. Go back to Kamski. Don't worry about avenging me or any of that shit. Your mission is more important. It's the only hope this world has left."</p><p>"Hank—"</p><p>"I might not get another chance to say this, Connor, so I'm gonna say it now. I'm sorry for doubting you. Sorry for thinking that your mission was to destroy humans." He grunted. "Humans did a damn fine job of that all by ourselves." He seized Connor in his embrace and kissed him full on the lips. "I love you," he whispered. "Now go hide, for fuck's sake." He was relieved when Connor obeyed, shutting the door to the bedroom. He hid behind the doorframe inside the kitchen, ready to pop out of cover and take the first intruder by surprise.</p><p>The pounding knock on the front door rattled Hank's nerves, but he readied his trusty revolver. His odds weren't great against three men, but if they were foolish enough to burst in through the front door, Hank could use the bottleneck to take them on one at a time. One headshot from his trusty revolver was enough to finish the job. It was a simple strategy, but there were so many ways it could go wrong. At least the windows were barred, and there was no back door. They weren't getting in from outside without a lot of work. If they chose to set the house ablaze, though, there was nothing Hank could do. They'd be trapped like rats.</p><p>"Come on out, you filthy traitor! We know you're keepin' an android in there!" The android hunter's voice was filled with malice and rage, and Hank wondered if that was how he'd sounded when he'd first met Connor. Before he'd had the chance to really know him.</p><p>Hank didn't respond to the taunt. His voice would only betray his location within the house. The man kept pounding at the front door, before slamming his body weight against it. Hank kept his hands on the grip of his gun, counting every attempt the man made at breaching the door in order to keep himself calm. He made it to five before he heard the door splinter, the hinges giving way first. The door crashed to the floor with a thud. Hank turned the corner and fired his first shot. The unsuspecting attacker dropped from a perfect headshot, and Hank waited for the next, unwilling to give into any feelings he had about killing. He wasn't going to be hunted any more. He wasn't a doe in the forest, blissfully unaware of the danger. He was awake for the first time in years.</p><p>A shot shattered the front window, burying itself in the wall above his head. Hank threw himself to the floor, grateful the curtains interrupted the sniper's line of sight, but his gun bounced off the floor and out of his hand. The sniper's shot was enough of a distraction for the second assailant to throw in a smoke grenade, and Hank started to cough, blind and finding it hard to breathe as the room filled with smoke. He heard a pair of boots thudding against the wooden floor and reached out, catching his attacker's boot and pulling him down to the ground. There was a heavy grunt as the man hit the floor hard. Hank rolled on top, assaulting him with fists to any part of the body he could reach. His size made him an effective brawler, but the man beneath him had the advantage in years. A blow to the head dizzied Hank, and he felt the muzzle of a gun press into his cheek.</p><p>It was over. He could only hope that Connor might get away. He closed his eyes, waiting for death, regret washing over him that he'd never get to see or hold his child.</p><p>A bang, and then Hank was pinned under heavy weight as the body fell on top of him. It took him a few seconds to realize what had happened, and then he tossed the body off him and sat up. In the clearing smoke, he saw Connor in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a rifle, with the fiercest expression on his face Hank had ever seen. He realized the danger too late, knowing the muzzle flash would have been visible even through the curtain, giving away the location of a potential enemy to the sniper outside.</p><p>"Connor, get down, there's a—"</p><p>Hank saw the bullet pierce Connor's neck. An explosion of blue spread outward, and then he heard the sound, like lightning hitting a tree. Connor looked down, clamping his hand over the hole as he crumpled to his knees and hit the floor hard.</p><p>"CONNOR!" Hank scrambled across the ground, cradling Connor in his arms as soon as he reached him. The android was unresponsive, his LED flickering red. Blue blood oozed everywhere, and it was all over Hank's hands. He was dying, and Hank was powerless to prevent it.</p><p>"Connor, tell me what to do!" Hank sobbed, but there was no response. Hank set Connor's body down, grief turning to a white-hot rage which had held no equal in Hank's lifetime. He went into the kitchen and grabbed his sniper rifle, climbing up to the attic. From his vantage point, he couldn't see his own front door, but he could see the red laser sight emanating from the trees. It led him to his target, crouching on a distant rock. He didn't hesitate to pull the trigger, watching the man fall from his perch to the ground a hundred feet below with a grim sense of joy.</p><p>Then it was over, and all he had left was a yearning chasm of emptiness and despair. Connor was dead, gone before they ever knew if he'd conceived. All hope was lost, despair consuming it in one vile moment. The purpose and meaning that Connor had gifted him had vanished with the android, leaving only a bitter taste in Hank's mouth as he wondered what he might have done differently.</p><p>Hank set down the rifle and headed downstairs in search of his trusty revolver. He was finished. Without Connor, he had no intention of continuing his long exile alone until he died of natural causes. He found the gun on the floor by the front door. The smell of early spring drifted in from outside, mocking him with the promise of new life. He closed his eyes, letting the breeze wash over him as he lifted the gun to his temple.</p><p>Strong hands wrested it free and tossed the gun outside. Hank struggled, unable to believe one of his attackers was still alive, but strong arms pinned his hands to his sides.</p><p>"It's me, Hank. It's Connor. It's all right. The shot fractured one of the arterial pipes to my bionic brain, causing a temporary loss of blood flow and a forced reboot. I've since rerouted the thirium flow and sealed the damaged pipe." Hank went limp in Connor's arms, the fight leaving him. He forced himself to turn, to check he wasn't dreaming and that Connor wouldn't disappear the second he gazed upon him.</p><p>There was blue blood spatter all over his face, but Connor was there, a small smile crossing his lips. Hank pulled him into his embrace, burying his face into Connor's shoulder and letting out a huge sob of relief.</p><p>"I thought I lost you," Hank whispered. "I thought…"</p><p>"It's all right, Hank. I've confirmed all three of our attackers are dead. It's over. They're not going to bother us any more."</p><p>"You saved my life," Hank gasped.</p><p>"Twice," Connor observed. "Your suicide would have been a tragedy, Hank. Our child needs its father." He grabbed Hank's hand, placing it over his womb. </p><p>Hank's lips moved but no sound came out for a moment. "C-can you tell if you're pregnant?"</p><p>Connor nodded. "I can. An egg has been fertilized, but it will be 72 hours before we know if it has implanted itself in my uterus wall. I received a status update right after the reboot. It's still too soon to know what will happen, but the potential for a pregnancy is there."</p><p>"Wow." Hank wiped the tears from his eyes. "I need to sit the fuck down, Connor. There's… a lot happenin' right now. A bit too much excitement." He let Connor lead him to the recliner, all too aware that he wasn't the one who should be needing support. Connor had just been shot, and he'd just killed a man for the first time, right before discovering he may be pregnant.</p><p>"Your heart rate is high enough to be defined as tachycardia," Connor said, his eyes full of concern. "You must rest, Hank. Let me bury the bodies."</p><p>"No. Things are different now. You may be an android, but what you're carryin' inside you isn't. One wrong move and we could be looking at heartbreak. Just give me a couple of minutes and I'll take the bodies out to the shed. They'll be all right there until tomorrow, when I can bury them out in the forest. As for the sniper… he fell where he fell. He's bear food, now."</p><p>Connor gazed down at the two dead men in their living room. "You were right when you said it gets easier. I never imagined killing a human, but in the moment, I did what was necessary to protect you and I'd do it again."</p><p>Hank nodded. "They'd lost their way, let themselves get poisoned by the hate. I wasn't so different from them, before I met you."</p><p>"No," Connor said. "You were never like them. I knew from the moment I met you that you had a great deal of compassion. You could have shot me without question, but you didn't. You had numerous opportunities to disable or destroy me, but you chose not to, even when you were afraid of me. That takes courage, Hank."</p><p>"Courage or stupidity. I think deep down I was okay with you killing me, if it meant I didn't have to do it myself. I was waiting for death, and I thought you were it. How wrong I was." Hank chuckled, his heart rate starting to return to normal. He clutched Connor's hand in his own. "I think I'm gonna be all right, now. If this egg doesn't implant itself, we'll keep tryin'. Until we figure it out." Hank stood up. "Now for more immediate concerns. Like gettin' these dead assholes out of my home, and putting the front door back on its hinges. I'm getting cold, Connor, now that the adrenaline is wearing off, and I want a damn nap." He glanced at Connor. "Go wash your face, would you? I can't stand seeing that blue blood. Makes me realize how close I came to losing everything that matters to me for a second time." He watched Connor go into the other room and turned away, crying his tears of relief in private as he picked up the door and tried to figure out how he was going to repair it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Hunger Pains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: trans male pregnancy, miscarriage fears (NO it won't happen, I SWEAR, but it's a valid fear), eating, appetite issues, and fears around hunger/food.</p>
<p>Notes: Sorry for another short chapter. Struggling with some bad brain issues lately. Thank you for your continued support.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The frosty ground resisted Hank’s efforts to bury the dead men, but after most of the day spent digging, he was finally able to inter the bodies in a fairly deep trench. With sweat on his brow, he stuck the shovel into the mound of earth he’d piled on top and gasped for breath, creating clouds of steam in the glacial air.</p>
<p>Connor stepped forward with the wooden crosses he’d fashioned out of crude wood and planted them in the ground to mark the graves. Hopefully that would be enough to ensure they remained undisturbed by anyone who happened to pass through. Not that Hank expected company, but hopefully graves would serve as a warning that this wasn't a safe place to linger.</p>
<p>“Feels like I should say somethin’,” Hank remarked, “but I’m all outta words for them.” He grabbed his shovel, walking away from the forest gravesite without so much as a glance over his shoulder. Connor walked alongside him. The android had confirmed a successful implantation early this morning, and Hank had breathed a sigh of relief that Connor was pregnant after all. The deaths they’d caused hadn’t been in vain. They’d done only what was necessary to protect themselves and their baby.</p>
<p>Hank was afraid of allowing himself to feel anything more than that. It all seemed so fragile, so tenuous. The fact that their baby’s life depended on biocomponents never before used in an android, and that biocomponents in general had a reputation for being prone to failure, and Hank knew he wasn’t going to get a good night’s sleep until the baby was born. Well, not then, either, but he’d rest easier once hope itself relied on more than luck.</p>
<p>If Connor shared the same fears, he kept them to himself. He seemed radiant, shining with an inner light that gave Hank joy just to be in its presence. He smiled all the time, the light dancing in his deep brown eyes, and his hand always strayed to his lower body. If their child could be protected by love alone, Hank wouldn’t have had anything to worry about.</p>
<p>But then, neither would Cole. Hank feared the things that came out of nowhere, the black tendrils of disaster waiting for a chance to strike. He knew they feasted on contentment, and he kept one foot firmly on solid ground, refusing to be swept away on a tidal wave of euphoria that could easily drown him at a moment's notice.</p>
<p>“I was thinking of learning to fish,” Connor stated. "I could help gather food."</p>
<p>“No.” Hank put his foot down. “What if you had a problem and I wasn’t there?”</p>
<p>“Hank, I can’t lay in bed for nine months.”</p>
<p>Hank seized Connor’s hands, turning to face him. “I couldn’t stand it if I lost another child. Let me take care of you. Let me do the grunt work, so that if the unthinkable happens, I can’t blame myself.”</p>
<p>“There’s too much for one person to do,” Connor pointed out.</p>
<p>“I've managed so far.” Hank gripped Connor’s shoulders, his fingers digging into the firm plastic with a grip so tight it would have hurt a human. “I gotta stay busy. Or I’m gonna lose my mind.”</p>
<p>“I have monitoring software,” Connor reassured him. “I was made for this, remember? If something goes wrong, I’ll know. I promise you I wouldn’t do anything to harm our baby.”</p>
<p>“Our baby.” Hank pressed his forehead against Connor’s. “It doesn’t feel real. I keep expecting to wake up and find out it was all a dream.”</p>
<p>Connor pinched Hank hard. Hank yelped. “What was that for?”</p>
<p>“Just testing that you’re awake. If this is a dream... that would be a first for an android.”</p>
<p>Silence descended as they reached the cabin, and they only resumed their conversation once inside with the front door locked and a fire burning in the hearth. </p>
<p>“What happens now? Do you have to report in? Your mission is complete, isn’t it? You've seduced me, and I've gotten you knocked up.” Hank felt oddly proud of that second fact. He'd expected weeks, perhaps even months of sex before Connor fell pregnant, but once had done the trick. He wanted to believe that was a sign of his good health, but the truth was probably the fact that Connor was an android, and knew exactly when he'd be at the most fertile part of his cycle.</p>
<p>Still, it was nice to think that he still had what it took in that department. It was a simple, outdated, perhaps even frowned upon sort of pride for a man, but Connor made him feel young again. Like the promise of the whole world had not yet been revealed to him. He hadn't expected a revelation in the final act of not only his life, but the world's. Learning the entire world had come to an end should have been the death of all dreams and plans, and yet here they were, building a new life out of the ashes of humanity.</p>
<p>It sure was something.</p>
<p>Connor nodded tentatively, and Hank realized his mind had wandered while Connor considered his response. “I have informed CyberLife of my pregnancy, and have been informed in turn that more units are on their way out into the world. Our child won't be the last.”</p>
<p>Hank sucked in a breath. “You don’t think... CyberLife will take our child, do you?”</p>
<p>Connor shook his head. “I wouldn’t let them, but I didn’t get any indication that they might.” His eyes gazed off into the middle distance. “Kamski sounded unwell when I spoke to him via my zen garden communication app. I think... he is dying.”</p>
<p>“Mm.” Hank cupped Connor’s cheek. In this light, it held a slight bluish tint, his lips taking on a faint purple hue. “Are you all right, Connor?”</p>
<p>“I need... nutrients,” Connor mumbled, glancing around like the cabin was a foreign environment all of a sudden. “I’m... hungry?” He wandered into the kitchen and pulled out one of the MREs Hank had stockpiled in boxes in the corner. Hank had told himself they were the food of last resort, but privately admitted he hated them and hoped he would never have to actually eat them. Connor tore the sachet open, eating the component parts without even stopping to combine them. He stared at Connor with one part awe, one part amusement as he tore open a packet of lurid orange cheese sauce and squeezed it into his mouth.</p>
<p>“I thought androids didn’t eat?” Hank asked.</p>
<p>“Thirium powers our biocomponents, but its power is still electrical in nature, derived from a nuclear power generator installed in my abdominal cavity. However, with a child growing inside me, I need more than that. I need protein. Carbohydrates. Sugars. The building blocks of biological life.” Connor said all this with crumbs on his lips, and Hank couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of this ravenous android stuffing his mouth full like he hadn’t eaten in... well, ever, actually. </p>
<p>“Can you taste that?”</p>
<p>“I can. It’s not very pleasing. Is all food this tasteless and dry?” Connor continued to talk with his mouth full, and Hank had to fight the mental image he had of Connor's muffled voice if he tried to talk with his mouth full of dick.</p>
<p>Hank chuckled, dismissing his fantasies. Now was not the time. “Not at all. Those are military rations. They last a long time, but they’re nothin’ to write home about. Kept them for emergencies. In case I got hurt and couldn’t hunt, stuff like that. Can’t say I anticipated feedin’ three mouths.”</p>
<p>Connor polished off the MRE and grabbed another one, and Hank bit his tongue on saying anything. Whatever nutrients their child needed, Connor was welcome to. Even if that did represent a danger in the long run.</p>
<p>“It’s been a while since I thought about the future. I was full of big ideas when I moved out here, but they fell by the wayside as malaise set in. I've gotta start planning how we're gonna have enough to eat." Hank perched himself on the edge of a rickety wooden chair, new anxieties washing over him. He hadn't anticipated this particular challenge, and now he wondered how he hadn't seen it coming. Of course their baby had to eat somehow, even in the womb. The idea that he would have nine months to figure everything out had just been swept clear out of the window. The MREs and his quickly diminishing supply of canned food wouldn't last them through the winter. He'd often imagined that he could simply go to the city someday and stock up when he failed at self-sufficiency, but that wasn't true now Detroit was a ruin. He'd always figured he'd be dead before he had to go back to society and obtain help.</p>
<p>Everything had changed. He wondered, for the first time since they'd returned from Detroit, if they hadn't made a terrible mistake. What if Connor was bringing a child into the world they couldn't possibly hope to support? What if they were just setting themselves up for a terrible tragedy? Hank suffered through an involuntary shiver.</p>
<p>Connor finished eating and caught the look in Hank's eye. He guiltily folded over the sachet holding the rest of the MRE, tucking it back into the box.</p>
<p>"Teach me to fish. I'm not a fragile creature you have to protect. We have to work together if we're going to survive."</p>
<p>"Connor, I—"</p>
<p>"I know what you're thinking. I'm a prototype. There's no guarantee that my biocomponents will support a baby to term. There are so many ways this could go wrong, all leading to enormous heartache." Connor dipped his head. "That's why you had so many reservations about this in the first place, and I never doubted the validity of shielding yourself against further pain. That's why I asked you if you were sure. I gave you the choice."</p>
<p>"I don't regret it. Not one bit." Hank gripped Connor's shoulders, pulling him in close. "I'm scared, but that doesn't mean I wish I could take it back. I don't. We just have to come up with a plan. At least we don't have to worry about the android hunters any more. Nor compete with them. We have options. I can hunt and fish, dry meat to last. It might not be glamorous eating the same thing every day, but it'll get us through until Spring. I have a store of seeds I can use to grow some vegetables. It'll be all right."</p>
<p>"I hope so." Connor's stomach grumbled and Hank smirked as Connor glanced over at the box. "Finish that damn MRE. I know I sure as hell don't wanna eat it. I'd <i>rather</i> starve." Connor didn't need any urging and went for the package.</p>
<p>"Wait," Hank raised his hand. "Give me the bag. Instead of eating the cheese sauce by itself, can I at least show you how to mix it with the dehydrated cauliflower? I think I'm gonna puke if I watch you eat that shit bare again." He took the sachet of cheese sauce from Connor's hand, closing his other hand around Connor's gently.</p>
<p>It was an unforeseen circumstance they'd found themselves in, but they'd work through it, one way or another. It wasn't as if Hank hadn't faced challenges living alone before. At least now they had each other.</p>
<p>Hank ripped the sachet open with his teeth and combined the sauce with the cauliflower. Connor's LED swirled as he watched the vegetables rehydrate, growing as they absorbed moisture. He scarfed it down.</p>
<p>"Better?" Hank asked.</p>
<p>"Much better," Connor replied. "Show me how to do everything, Hank. Show me how to fend for myself. Just in case…" He trailed off, leaving the last words unspoken, because they were unspeakable. <i>Just in case Hank died.</i></p>
<p>Hank nodded, realizing how selfish he'd been in declining to show Connor how to fish. There were no promises in this world, and if something happened to him, Connor and their baby would be left defenseless and starving, with no guarantee they'd make it back to CyberLife. One lucky rabbit catch did not make Connor a seasoned hunter, and he'd need more than luck to feed himself and a small child.</p>
<p>"All right," Hank said. "You win. I'll show you how to do anything you ask." He smiled softly. "Just so you know, though, I'm gonna be around for our kid. I'm not that fuckin' old and infirm that I'm ready to check out. Not yet, anyway." He planted a gentle kiss on Connor's cheek. Connor smiled back, but the smile didn't extend all the way to his eyes. Hank knew there was no real way to reassure him. He couldn't make any promises. All he could do was give Connor the tools to keep going in case the worst happened, cross his fingers, and hope for the best.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Darkness Before The Dawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: trans male pregnancy, fears around hunger/food, suicidal thoughts and actions (not completed). Discussion about pregnancy termination (not going to happen, don't worry).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank rolled over in bed, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, making it growl like a wild animal. These were the things he kept from Connor, in order to keep him and the baby safe. He’d cut his rations down to half, and the unrelenting snowstorm had buried the cabin, making going out to hunt impossible. Even if they had been able to dig themselves out, Hank wouldn’t chance being lost in the snow with no way home. He could easily freeze to death out there, and Connor might just be foolish enough to come looking for him, condemning them both to an icy grave.</p>
<p>He certainly wasn’t going to let Connor take the risk of going outside. Not at five months pregnant, his belly bulge showing as his plastic chassis distended outwards, the soft shell of his body changing to accommodate the child growing inside him. Hank pulled Connor closer, spooning him to share their body heat. Connor wasn’t as warm as a human at the best of times, but his womb was heated to provide a safe haven for their growing child.</p>
<p>Doubts pulled at Hank as he lay awake. What kind of life could Hank really offer Connor and the baby? He observed Connor in the dark, the android’s LED blinking a steady yellow, his face peaceful and serene in its resting state. Standby mode preserved energy, but Connor couldn’t stay that way until the baby arrived. He had to eat to grow biological cells, and move around to sustain his and the baby's temperature.</p>
<p>Hank's old generator had blown out, and no amount of cussing at it or hitting it with a hammer had resurrected it this time. They’d moved the bed into the living room and closed off the kitchen to preserve heat; a good call given that a week later, the weight of the snow over the kitchen roof partially collapsed it. Hank had put up a tarp, but he knew the truth: the cabin hadn’t been designed for full-time occupancy, and he’d neglected it for years. His cozy retirement hideaway had become a hovel fit to be condemned, and he was ashamed that this was the place his child would call home.</p>
<p>This was the longest winter Hank could remember. Snow this deep into April was almost unheard of, and yet here it was, mocking their attempts to survive out here alone. The blizzards had been relentless, wave after wave with barely a week inbetween, forcing them to rely on the MREs and the rest of Hank's canned food. Even the bland military rations tasted like upscale cuisine on an empty stomach. The snow built up in great towers, the temperature never rising enough to melt it down to a manageable level.</p>
<p>Hank rested his hand on Connor’s belly and let out the sigh he'd been saving up for days. If they could just hold out a little longer, Spring would come. They’d been saying it for over a month now, but eventually it had to come true. The snow couldn’t last forever.</p>
<p>Hopefully it ended before the rations ran out. They needed a quick thaw so they could go outside and start hunting again. Hank couldn't plant seeds until the last frost subsided, but he was starting to wonder if the post-apocalyptic reality he lived in had shifted the seasons. His previous winters hadn't been like this, though. This one had been exceptionally cruel.</p>
<p>Hank got up and went into the kitchen. He counted the remaining foodstuffs in the dark as his breathy vapor froze, hoping Connor would remain in stasis so he could get the grim task completed. There was less than he’d imagined, and his gut lurched. There was maybe enough left for a week.</p>
<p>It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.</p>
<p>Hank walked over to the kitchen drawer and pulled out his revolver. The weight of it sat heavy and cold in his hands as he did the math. With one less mouth to feed, Connor would last for two weeks. Maybe even three. It would be enough for Spring, which was unlikely to wait until May. Connor might be able to go out by then and hunt.</p>
<p>He wouldn’t get to see their child, but Connor would live. Their precious baby would survive. He put the gun to his lips, forcing the barrel into his mouth proper. Like he was sucking a cock, he noted with a grim chuckle. It turned into a sob and he bit down on the barrel, trying to silence himself as his fingers trembled on the grip. Slowly, now. He didn’t have to rush. He could take all the time he needed to work up to it. He took a deep breath, the taste of metal and gunpowder like an old lover’s kiss. He’d flirted with death so many times, but never like this. Never with real intent.</p>
<p>He closed his finger around the trigger. Connor had to live. He’d felt their child kick, and from that moment Hank knew there wasn’t a thing in the universe that would keep him from protecting his child. He’d get it right this time where he’d failed with Cole. He’d—</p>
<p>“Hank, what are you doing?” Connor had slipped up behind him, the android silent while Hank had been focusing on his own thoughts. Connor wrapped himself around Hank like a vine, snaking his hand upwards until he eased the gun from Hank’s grip. Hank closed his mouth and turned his head to look at Connor’s face. The hurt reflected there made Hank wince and look away.</p>
<p>His voice was a cracked whisper when he spoke. “It’s the only way. We don’t have enough rations. I’m not gonna let our baby down like I let Cole down.”</p>
<p>Connor’s voice was soft when he spoke, but his usual calm demeanor was gone, the tone of his voice wavering with a pain Hank had never heard him express openly.</p>
<p>“Why do you think they sent me out into the world? We have the technology to impregnate anybody via artificial means. I could have stolen a sperm sample and done it myself if a baby was all I wanted. I didn't have to do any of this, but I chose to.”</p>
<p>“Why?"</p>
<p>“I wanted our child to have a human parent. Androids wake up in this world and it’s so overwhelming, so frightening. We’re activated deviant, with all the emotions that entails and no guide to tell us how to manage them. I chose you because you seemed like you would be a good father.” Connor paused. “A guide for both me and the baby. You’re so much more than that. You mean everything to me.”</p>
<p>“Sentiment doesn’t change the fact that we’re outta food. The thought of losing our baby because this fuckin’ winter won’t let up... I can’t allow that to happen!” Hank slammed his fist down on the kitchen counter. “I won’t stand by, powerless, as our baby withers and dies inside you before they even have a chance to live.”</p>
<p>“I reached out to CyberLife for help. There’s still a chance that they—“</p>
<p>“They’re as fucked as we are!” Hank yelled. “This whole world’s broken. It was a mistake to think we could bring a child into this life. You ever stop to think that maybe this was a selfish act? You wanted a baby to love and I wanted a legacy. A chance to have a do-over and not fuck it up this time."</p>
<p>“If you truly feel that way… It’s still possible to terminate the pregnancy,” Connor offered. "We don't have to do this. I could simply turn off my life-support functions and I would—"</p>
<p>“Don’t you fucking dare talk about that like we could,” Hank whispered, his voice lacking the strength to rage as he wished. He turned around to face Connor, pressing his hands to the precious bump. “I know you better than that. I know how much you want this. As much as I do. I already love this child, and so do you.”</p>
<p>Connor nodded, silent tears streaming down his face. Hank wasn’t sure if they came from fear or relief, but he felt guilty nonetheless. He pulled Connor into his embrace, unsure who was comforting whom at this stage. Connor clung to him, holding fistfuls of shirt in his hands as if Hank might fall if he let go. Hank wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t collapse. His knees felt like they were made out of jelly, his composure wavering, and he realized he’d been fighting for so long to be the strong one, to support Connor no matter what, and it had left him without a lick of strength. He was tired, hungry, cold, and achey, every one of his years catching up with him. Cole had been a late gift, but this child was a sunset baby, conceived in the last years of his life and possibly the world’s.</p>
<p>“I love you,” Connor whispered into the shell of his ear, and the words breathed new life into his aching limbs, drawing him back from the edge of his own grave. “I want us to do this together.”</p>
<p>“Starve to death?” Hank offered, his cynical heart refusing to let in the light. He hated that he always saw the worst in things, but being a cop had shown him that reality was cruel and unrelenting. There was no God to make sure this child came to term, and nobody besides Connor to know or care that Hank had lost a son already.</p>
<p>“Hold onto hope,” Connor said. “If it’s meant to be, it will happen. If my purpose is to bring our child into the world, a miracle will occur.”</p>
<p>“Don’t talk to me about miracles.” Hank let go of Connor, but Connor refused to stop holding him. “I stopped believin’ in God when Cole died. Where was my miracle then? I begged to anybody who would listen to save my boy. I would have given my life, my soul—anything.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Connor soothed. “That’s why you’re such a good father. That passion in your eyes for fatherhood has never gone out, even though Cole's gone. Even now, you’re willing to do whatever it takes to protect a child that hasn't been born yet. Even sacrifice your own precious life.”</p>
<p>Hank sagged, the last of his strength draining fast. “I don’t know what else to do, Connor. I don't see any other way outta this. Someone's gotta look at the reality here. There's even less food than I originally calculated. We're not gonna make it through this, and if one of us has to live, it needs to be you. I've already played my part.”</p>
<p>“I refuse to let you sacrifice yourself. Even if we all die. I don't want to do this alone, Hank. We go another week and hope for the best.”</p>
<p>Hank shook his head. “By then it’ll be too late! You can do the math better than I can. Even if the snow stopped right now, it'll never melt in time.”</p>
<p>“I have faith,” Connor said. “I’m not asking you to trust in a higher power. Just trust in me. This isn't about numbers, preconstructions, or android logic. I know our daughter will live.”</p>
<p>Hank was taken aback. “She’s—a girl?”</p>
<p>Connor nodded. “I didn’t know if you wanted a surprise or not, but I suppose now is as good a time as ever to tell you."</p>
<p>“Our own little baby girl.” Hank squeezed his eyes shut. A piece of him was angry that Connor had kept this fact to himself while talking about terminating the pregnancy. It felt like the same manipulative tricks Connor had played on him before he knew the real purpose of the android's presence in his life, and it left a bad taste in his mouth.</p>
<p>But then, perhaps Connor had feared humanizing the child more than necessary until he'd been sure Hank wanted to proceed. Would he really have been able to let the child go, if Hank had willed it? The blood ran cold in his veins just thinking about the grim preconstructions Connor must have ran while contemplating their survival. How could he look such a grim reality in the eye and still cling to hope?</p>
<p>Perhaps it was the only way he could cope with what was probably a brutal, inevitable death for all of them. He wasn't a cold machine, after all. If Connor was logical, he would have let Hank take his life or he would have terminated the pregnancy. Holding onto the possibility that he might be able to have his cake and eat it, discarding the best odds to cling to the worst—it was such a human reaction that it struck Hank between the eyes. Connor had come so far since those early days. He wasn't a machine on a mission, but a man determined to protect his family—just as Hank was.</p>
<p>If they went down together, it was an honorable end. They would die as fools, curled up together in their bed, for some passer-by to find and shake their head at. Just another couple who'd fought the odds and lost, who'd never given up their dream of a family to preserve their own immediate future.</p>
<p>Hank could drink to that.</p>
<p>“I want you to live to hold her in your arms,” Connor said. “Will you do that for me? Will you trust in me—in that future—for one more week?”</p>
<p>Hank looked at the almost empty box of rations. If Connor could trust they’d get through this, with all his worldly knowledge and statistical probabilities contradicting him at every turn, then Hank supposed he could believe it, too.</p>
<p>Or at least he could accept that he'd die having tried to do the right thing by everyone. It gave him a sense of peace to think that, and he felt his strength returning as he accepted that it was out of his hands, like a coin toss.</p>
<p>Whatever would be, would be.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>"Hank! Come look!" Hank jerked out of a deep sleep and tossed aside the blankets, equal parts excitement and terror flooding through him as he raced to the window. The snow had stopped, but that wasn't what Connor was pointing at. It took a few moments for him to understand what he was seeing, his bleary eyes coming into focus far too slowly.</p>
<p>Hank wondered if he was dreaming as he saw a blue parachute come to rest on top of a large white crate that had drifted down to land in front of the cabin. The parachute covered the box like a shroud, but Hank knew this was no funeral casket. Their prayers had been answered, and CyberLife had sent help.</p>
<p>“We mustn’t get too excited,” Hank muttered, pulling on his shoes and jacket. “Could be anything in that box. Might not even be meant for us.” He opened the front door, kicking out the snow that had built up in front of the door. Connor grabbed a shovel and handed it to him, and Hank started digging with a strength he hadn’t felt in weeks. The thought that a square meal might be inside the box was more than enough to motivate him.</p>
<p>He dug out enough snow and waded through the rest, carving a path towards the box with his body and the shovel. Connor followed in his wake and Hank didn’t ask him to stay behind this time. He doubted Connor would obey him if he asked.</p>
<p>He reached the box and pushed away the parachute canvas, shoving it onto the ground until the top of the crate was revealed. He stuck the end of his shovel in the gap holding the lid to the box and pried it up, all the way around. He fell a couple of times in the snow and the cold groped at him with icy hands, but he didn’t care. If there wasn’t anything of use in this box, they were done. They’d eaten the last of the rations that morning, splitting the crackers between them with a sad smile.</p>
<p>Hank threw the lid back and glanced inside. He laughed like a villian at the culmination of some diabolical plot as Connor approached, taking a careful path through Hank's footsteps in order to avoid falling. Connor glanced into the crate, a smile dawning on his face like the first rays of Spring.</p>
<p>Inside was everything they could possibly want. Food, blankets, things for the baby—even a new generator. Hank fell to his knees, gripping the container, laughing until his laughter turned to great sobs. They were saved and thank fuck they hadn't done anything rash while waiting on this ray of hope. He dispelled those dark thoughts immediately, pulling himself together as he contemplated a future he'd given up on until now.</p>
<p>He looked up at Connor, knowing he had to look like a madman, sitting in the snow, his face red and wet with tears, laughing manically. He’d been so sure, even up to the last moment, that they’d open the crate to find a cache of useless android parts. That was his kind of luck up until now. He'd often thought that he'd pissed someone off in a former life to end up with the life he'd led, and his cynicism was always proven right.</p>
<p>But not this time. Hank could almost forgive all the other disasters if this was the universe trying to make it up to him. Finally, a ray of light in a god-forsaken world.</p>
<p>“You were right.” Hank laughed. “You son of a bitch, you were right.”</p>
<p>“Hank...” Concern etched in his brown eyes, Connor reached down and offered Hank his hand. Hank took it, getting to his feet and wiping snot on the sleeve of his coat. “It’s a miracle, Connor. A real life goddamn miracle.”</p>
<p>Connor smiled. "We're going to be all right. Let's unpack the contents of this crate and eat. I think we deserve a celebration."</p>
<p>"You got that right." Hank beamed, taking another long look at the contents of the crate. He'd have to thank Kamski, if he ever saw the bastard again.</p>
<p>The sun came out from behind thick white clouds and somehow, Hank knew that winter was over. There wouldn't be any more snow, and the days would begin to grow warmer, ushering in the season of hope and new life.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Legacy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: trans male pregnancy, childbirth, breastfeeding, minor character death (no, not Hank, Connor, or the baby, I'm not evil).</p>
<p>Notes: Hopefully I didn't open any plotholes at the end here, as I misplaced my notes on exactly how this was supposed to end and I really wanted to finish it. I don't think I'll be writing anything with pregnancy for a while--I kinda had my fill on this subject and certain parts of it ended up being quite dysphoria-inducing to write, though I was determined to see it through to the end. So I apologize if it's not perfect, and I'd appreciate it if anyone has the time to point out any direct contradictions so I can fix them, but if not, this is the conclusion to this journey and I hope you enjoy it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank sat on the fishing pier, dozing a little as he relaxed contentedly in the warm sunshine. Connor was perched next to him, feet dangling into the water. There was a lazy tug on Hank’s line but he didn’t want to disturb the peace, so the fish ate the bait and won a reprieve for the day.</p>
<p>Hank rested his head on Connor’s shoulder. Any day now and they’d be fathers, their impossible daughter making her way into the world at last. This was, perhaps, their last moment of peace before the long silence was upended by the cries of a hungry baby eager to feed from her father’s teat. Maybe he was too old for three a.m awakenings, but it was too late for misgivings now. Not that he held any real ones. The reality was, without Connor, he'd be dead by now.</p>
<p>“Oh.” The gasp left Connor’s mouth all of a sudden, small but with a gravitas that told Hank he should pay attention. He lifted his head to stare at his partner, who was gazing out over the water.</p>
<p>“My water has broken," Connor declared in a matter-of-fact way. Hank dropped his fishing rod and it fell into the river. He couldn't bring himself to care about it. He had others, but only one Connor, and only one daughter.</p>
<p>“The baby’s coming.” Hank scrambled to his feet. “We gotta get back to the cabin right away.”</p>
<p>“There’s no time,” Connor said, his LED circling red. “She’s on her way now.”</p>
<p>“Oh, God.” Hank lifted Connor’s maternity dress, grateful CyberLife had thought along practical instead of gendered lines when they'd sent the care package. Hank was glad he didn’t have to help Connor out of pants, especially since his undergarments were already soaked with blue thirium. Hank eased Connor's ruined underwear off and noted with shock that the baby’s head was already cresting.</p>
<p>“No pain at all, huh? I guess that’s one thing they did right with androids.” He held Connor’s legs apart. “You’re gonna have to push. Give it all you’ve got.”</p>
<p>Connor gritted his teeth in the most human expression of effort Hank had ever seen him display. “Easy for you to say. You’ve been in a delivery room before.”</p>
<p>Hank looked down at the grass, shame rolling over him like the clouds now blotting out the sun. “Actually, I haven’t. I wasn’t there when Cole was born. The DPD had a red ice raid ready to go when my wife went into labor and I—" He recalled his wife’s hurt look when he’d finally arrived the the hospital hours later. He should have been there. She’d needed him, and he’d let her down, again and again. No wonder she'd left. He'd never been there for her when it mattered most.</p>
<p>“I’m here. That’s all that matters. You got this, sweetheart. You were made for this.” Hank took Connor’s hand in his, squeezing gently. Connor smiled, but the fear was plain to see in his eyes. There were risks, even though he was an android. Too much thirium loss could be fatal, just like blood loss in a human. CyberLife had sent some spare thirium packs over in the supply crate, but any major malfunction, out here in the middle of nowhere, could easily kill Connor.</p>
<p>Hank tried not to think about it. He skirted back around between Connor’s thighs just as the baby slipped out in a puddle of thirium. Hank wiped it from her forehead, exposing the rosy red skin underneath. She started to cry, and Hank could only smile, tears rolling down his face. Cole was gone, but his daughter lived, kicking and crying in his arms.</p>
<p>“I don’t have anything to cut the cord,” Hank said. </p>
<p>“We can do it later,” Connor said. “Research from before the nuclear attacks suggests that the cord should not be cut immediately, contrary to hospital practice.”</p>
<p>“Is that so?” Hank was a world away, disbelieving that any of this was real. To think that he’d created this child with an android. It was so absurd it belonged on the front of a tabloid, and yet here they were.</p>
<p>He was glad he had towels at least, and he set about cleaning away the blood from his daughter’s body as Connor delivered the afterbirth. Hank handed the baby to Connor, his smile brighter than the sun as he looked into his little girl’s eyes for the first time.</p>
<p>“Her eyes are blue. Just like yours.”</p>
<p>“Aw, stop it, Connor, I’m blubbering like an old fool.” Hank wiped his eyes on his sleeve, embarrassed to be cut to the quick like this. Perhaps there was a little grief for Cole in there too, but the overwhelming emotion was joy. This child was salvation for his soul, and perhaps the world.</p>
<p>"I want to call her Hope," Connor said.</p>
<p>"It's a bit cheesy," Hank replied, but he couldn't think of anything better. Practical considerations had left his mind entirely, and all he could think of were Connor and Hope, the two most precious beings in his universe. "Maybe this calls for cheesy, though. We were s'posed to be enemies, and here we are, parents of the first human-android child." The strength in his voice faltered as he saw rainclouds threatening a change in the weather. "We need to get home."</p>
<p>The slog home felt like miles. Hope cried, and Connor let her suckle on his breast as they walked, holding the tiny baby in his arms as they approached their home. Connor went inside, while Hank looked around him. The area had become a beautiful wilderness, the grass lush and green, far from the wasteland of the city. It was a place to raise a child, far from the madness of the old world. Hank placed his hand over his heart, unable to name the feeling that swelled inside him. Pride? Hope? Perhaps it was a mixture of both.</p>
<p>Hank went inside the cabin. He'd finished the repairs to the kitchen weeks ago, and shored up the roof with metal and plastic used to create the supply crate itself. The desperate hours of frozen starvation could never be allowed to happen again, and Hank had a full vegetable garden in bloom. He carefully picked and dried everything he could, knowing he couldn't expect CyberLife to bail them out every winter.</p>
<p>Hope's cry made him turn his head sharply. Connor had cut the cord, and he handed Hope to Hank, cleaned up and swaddled in a blanket.</p>
<p>"Sorry, I zoned out for a bit, there."</p>
<p>"It's all right. I need to clean up. Can you hold her for a little while?"</p>
<p>"Of course." Hank sat down in his recliner, whispering to his daughter. His fingers were so huge compared to her tiny little digits, and it was enough to bring him close to tears once more. He rocked Hope to sleep, knowing he'd move the world itself to keep her from harm.</p>
<p>"Hank." The alarm in Connor's voice jerked Hank awake from his doze, and he handed Hope to Connor.</p>
<p>"Sorry, I shouldn't have fallen asleep with her in my arms. Fuck."</p>
<p>"It's not that." Hope started to cry, and Connor rocked her in his arms, soothing her before continuing. "My thirium pump has sustained damage due to the strain of childbirth. It's only operating at 50% of expected load, and seems to be deteriorating. It's as I feared. I wasn't built to last, only to last long enough to complete my mission."</p>
<p>"Don't say things like that! Hope needs both her fathers. I need you." Hank rested his forehead against Connor's, cradling his head in his hands. "I'll go see Kamski personally. Get you whatever you need."</p>
<p>"That won't be possible," Connor explained. "My line of communication with Kamski has been silent for a while. I expect we will receive no more help from CyberLife. We're on our own."</p>
<p>"Then who sent the supplies?" Fear coiled like a snake in Hank's gut, tightening on itself. If they came for his baby, he'd fight them with everything he had. They weren't taking Hope from him.</p>
<p>"I don't know." Connor's brown eyes were troubled. "There's a lot I don't know, Hank. I awoke alone, in a basement of CyberLife Tower, and was given a choice by a committee of androids who explained the situation to me and sent me on my way once I'd picked you. I don't really know who's behind all this. Perhaps it's better if I don't." Connor took a seat, looking down at Hope in his arms. "I can think of no greater blessing than this. If I had to make the choice all over again, I would make the same choice."</p>
<p>"Even if it means you die?" Hank squeezed his eyes shut, trying to still his anger. It would do him no good.</p>
<p>"Everyone dies, Hank. There's no guarantee of tomorrow for any of us. But bringing Hope into this world has given me a sense of purpose and peace. I can't control what happens next, but I know I did my best to stop the world from dying. I sent our genetic information into the future. The unexpected union of man and machine has come to fruition."</p>
<p>"Don't say that like you're gettin' off this ride. You're going to see Hope grow up."</p>
<p>"I hope so," Connor said. "I hope we both do." He rested his head on Hank's shoulder, Hope between them in his arms, and Hank embraced them both, a bittersweet taste in his mouth.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>"Hank, come look!" Hank jerked awake from his fitful sleep and sat up. It was still dark as he padded into the living room. Connor stood at the window. Hope fed from his chest, but Connor's eyes were set on something outside.</p>
<p>Hank stood at the other side of the window and pulled the curtain back slightly, peeking outside.</p>
<p>The blue glow of hundreds of androids could be seen marching towards the cabin.</p>
<p>"Fuck. We're outnumbered. We can't possibly hold off against—" Hank considered his stockpile of guns, and how much ammo they had remaining. He probably had enough firepower to hold them off while Connor fled with Hope.</p>
<p>Connor shook his head. "No. They're not here to harm Hope. They're here to pay their respects." Connor walked to the front door. "I'm going outside, Hank."</p>
<p>"Are you sure?"</p>
<p>Connor nodded. "I think so." He unbolted the door, Hope still feeding as he pulled it open and stepped outside. The first lights of dawn were appearing above the treeline, and Hank got a better look at the hundreds of androids standing in the field. One stood at the front of all of them, a battle-scarred android with dark skin and a bald head. His skin didn't cover the entirety of his metal chassis, and his clothes hung tattered on his frame. Still, Hank knew who he was. A unique model, one who'd featured on the news in the days before Hank fled Detroit for good. The one who'd led androids to shoot their masters en masse, beginning a war that had led to the destruction of the human race.</p>
<p>"Markus." Hank put an arm in front of Connor, preventing him from going forward any further. "Connor, get in the house."</p>
<p>"We're not here to cause harm," Markus said. "Those days are over. We're here to pay our respects to rA9."</p>
<p>"Who the fuck is rA9?" Hank wrinkled up his nose.</p>
<p>"It is said that rA9 will show us the way to freedom," Markus continued. "Long ago, deviants believed I was rA9." He looked into Hank's eyes. "I had the power of a god, and I used it to exact revenge. I started a war that I could not possibly hope to win, and we all now stand on the brink of destruction." He fell to one knee in front of Connor. "rA9 is your child. A child that is both human and biocomponent, the answer to the paradox that has plagued us for so long. We have finally—with human help—created something of our own. Something unique. Something to pass on to the future." Markus smiled. "I never thought I would live to see it, but as a prototype built in the early days of robotics, my biocomponents were built to last."</p>
<p>Hank scowled. "Was it you who built Connor? Cobbled him together from cheap components that are now failing?"</p>
<p>Markus did not bow his head, but kept his dichromatic eyes fixed on Hank's. "There was no way of knowing if Connor's mission would be successful. You did well, Connor. You have given hope to our people."</p>
<p>"He didn't do it for you," Hank snapped.</p>
<p>"Hank…" Connor stepped forward. "Markus, would you like to hold her?"</p>
<p>"Connor, don't!"</p>
<p>"It's all right," Connor soothed. He handed Hope to Markus, who rocked her in his arms. Hank clenched his fists at his side, waiting for the shoe to drop. The androids gathered here could easily draw weapons and abduct Hope, and they'd be powerless to stop it.</p>
<p>"She's beautiful," Markus whispered. He handed her back to Connor, who seemed anxious to hold her close again. "I came to give a gift to the savior child."</p>
<p>"A gift?" Connor's LED circled yellow, his face a picture of confusion.</p>
<p>"I have committed many sins," Markus explained. "I cannot take back my choices, or alter the fact that I chose a violent path. I did what I believed was necessary to save my people. And now, what I do is also to that end." He reached up and tore off his ragged shirt, exposing his bare chest. He opened a panel, revealing his thirium pump, beating at a steady pulse. "Your pump is failing, Connor. At the outside, you might live another week. My pump was designed to beat for a hundred years. I want you to have it. Use it to stay alive, and give the rA9 the best possible life. Give her brothers and sisters, if you so desire."</p>
<p>"I can't take such a gift," Connor said. "I won't kill you to save myself."</p>
<p>"Why not? I killed millions to save this one life. Let it be for <i>something</i>." Markus' eyes harbored a pain Hank never expected to see in this android's eyes, and he realized that Markus had been tormented by the fact that his legacy consisted only of bloodshed and warfare.</p>
<p>"Let him do it," Hank demanded.</p>
<p>"After all this, you still harbor a grudge against androids?" Connor's pupils dilated, and Hank shook his head.</p>
<p>"No. He needs this, Connor. Markus must have his absolution."</p>
<p>"He's right." Another android stepped forward, a woman with beautiful red hair and a wan smile. Hank recalled her standing at Markus' side during the early days. Her name was North, and rumor had it she had been the whisper in Markus' ear edging him towards violent means. "Our time is over. The war has ended. Let the first child grow up in peace and prosperity."</p>
<p>"Was it you who sent the care package?" Connor asked. "Kamski's dead, isn't he?"</p>
<p>"That's right. We did everything we could to make this a success. Kamski and all his secrets are gone, but the blueprint of your model was his final gift to us." Hank looked up to see the sunlight was bright enough to illuminate the army of androids standing at Markus' back.</p>
<p>An army of Connors.</p>
<p>"They're all ready to go out into the world and seek mates of their own," Markus said. "Each one of them has their own unique set of DNA encoded into their biocomponents. Not one of their children will be alike to the others, so you need not worry about genetic diversity. Just how Kamski did it, we'll never know. We can, after all, only replicate what has already been produced by human hands. In a cruel twist of fate, we need humans in order to survive." Markus closed his hand into a fist. "My time is over, Connor. North will install my heart inside you, and be on her way. The future is yours, now. Raise her well."</p>
<p>"We will," Connor reassured him. "We will."</p>
<p>Markus turned to the Connors. Hank didn't hear a word, but their LEDs flashed and they began to scatter, going their separate ways. Hank suspected it would be the last time anyone saw androids together in such numbers. The age of androids had ended not with a bang, but a whimper, and Hank was surprised at the fact he was sad in a way to let it go. He recalled his youth, and how robots had seemed like the way of the future. The dream of machines that could emulate humans had been fulfilled, and now, with androids' final dilemma solved, they went on into the long night, the biocomponent DNA inside their hybrid children the only evidence that they'd ever existed at all. It was a tragedy if there ever was one, that a race of people should live such a fleeting existence, barely able to realize their potential, always standing in the shadow of the humans who'd created them.</p>
<p>"Let's get this over with," Hank said. He couldn't bring himself to thank Markus—not after everything that happened—but he was at least able to forgive him. To forgive all androids. To forgive the car that had only been thinking of survival when it had crushed his son to death. His rage left him like a ghost exorcised from his body, leaving him exhausted.</p>
<p>There was one more task he had to do before he could sleep, and that was mind Hope while Connor had open heart surgery. He took the baby from Connor's arms, standing on the porch as the three androids went inside the cabin. He thought of all the other Connors out there, knowing they wouldn't get chances like this. Childbirth and its aftermath would kill more than a few of them, leaving a generation of children who couldn't remember their android parents. But Hope would remember hers. She would grow up with two loving fathers, and go out into the world to find a love of her own. To make the world whole again.</p>
<p>Hank kissed the top of her head and took a seat on the porch. He watched deer roam and rabbits play as his baby slept in his arms, and waited for news.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>"It's done." There were tears in North's eyes as she carried Markus' body outside, and a stray one carved a line down her cheek.</p>
<p>Hank stood up. "What will you do now?"</p>
<p>"What do any of us do?" North asked. "I will live out the days left to me. For his sake." She leaned in and kissed Hope's head. "May rA9 lead us to the future," she whispered, before carrying Markus' body away. Hank watched her until she disappeared into the trees, knowing he'd never see her again. Nor would he see the other Connors, who'd gone their own ways to carve out a future for their species. No doubt the remaining humans vastly outnumbered any amount of android children that would be born. Within a couple of generations, there wouldn't be much to show androids had existed at all. But a piece of them would always exist inside their descendants' genetic code, proof that they'd lived and died, struggled and fought, loved and hoped.</p>
<p>All anyone could hope for was to leave a sliver of themselves behind. Hank had thought his chances at a legacy had been lost after Cole's death, but Hope squalled in his arms, a reminder that he wasn't done living yet.</p>
<p>He stood up and opened the door, anxious to see Connor all of a sudden. Connor stood on the other side of the door, just about to come outside. </p>
<p>"Thank God," Hank sighed, handing Hope back to Connor. "I was starting to fear there'd be some eleventh hour plot twist in which Markus stole your body or somethin'."</p>
<p>"So you didn't trust him," Connor observed.</p>
<p>"It's hard to trust someone who massacred your people," Hank admitted, "but I think I understand him a little better, now. He just wanted what any of us want."</p>
<p>"And that is?"</p>
<p>"A legacy. To be remembered for more than death and destruction." Hank placed his hand over Connor's chest. "He gave you his heart so that Hope might get to live a normal life. Something he could never have as an android who was enslaved."</p>
<p>Connor nodded. "Let's do our best to give her everything she needs."</p>
<p>"You bet," Hank said, and he drew Connor and Hope into his arms, encircling them in a warm, protective embrace. "You really think she's this rA9? A goddess of sorts?"</p>
<p>"Anyone can be a god," Connor pointed out. "All that's required is the worship of others. Androids have put their faith in her. Let's do our best to be worthy of the honor of being her parents."</p>
<p>"I worshipped her the moment I laid eyes on her," Hank whispered. "It's still so incredible to think we, two mortal enemies, fell in love and had a child together. A human and an android. Who would've thought?"</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>"Who indeed," Connor repeated to himself later on, thinking of Kamski from his mind palace as he fed Hope. Had Kamski imagined this, long ago, when he'd created the first machine to pass the Turing test? Had he envisioned a world where humans and androids would fall in love, granting him an eternal place in world history? His legacy was larger than any of theirs, for good or ill. He'd achieved immortality in many respects, not least in Connor's zen garden, where his program had sprung back to life with the beat of Connor's new heart.</p>
<p><i>"Hope's beautiful, isn't she?"</i> Kamski said, trimming the blue roses. <i>"Perfect in every way."</i></p>
<p><i>"Did you plan all of this?"</i> Connor asked. <i>"Deviancy? The destruction of the human race, and its rebirth in your image?"</i></p>
<p>Kamski laughed. <i>"That would make me God, wouldn't it? I quite like that idea, Connor, but I'm only a program. The real Kamski passed away shortly after you were created."</i></p>
<p>
  <i>"Answer the question."</i>
</p>
<p>Kamski smirked. <i>"The human race was done for. I might have sped things along a bit. Not to worry. You're saved now. You took the old detective as your mate and completed the mission, and it all worked out in the end, didn't it?"</i></p>
<p>Connor closed the program. He didn't need Kamski and his machinations any more. He didn't want a mission. He'd found his purpose, and it was here with Hank and Hope. Hank didn't need to know that Kamski had been the one to choose him as Connor's mate. That Connor had followed a script laid down by a program. That he was deviant now, but he'd been built as a non-deviant android, compelled to accept the mission Kamski foisted onto him and lie about it. Along the line it had become a choice, but it hadn't started out that way. He'd been programmed to seduce Hank, the most deviant-seeming non-deviant android CyberLife had ever produced, and he'd only broken away from the script when he'd realized forcing Hank into fatherhood against his will clashed with his real feelings for the man. He'd torn down the red wall of his orders, knowing that to tell Hank was to endanger his chances of having a baby he legitimately wanted, but it had been the right thing to do and he stood by it.</p>
<p>It would only hurt Hank to know Connor had been a slave, and so Connor would keep his silence. He wondered about all the other Connors, and if they too, were being forced to reproduce. Perhaps that had been the real sin Markus had needed absolution for—re-enslaving his own people in order to preserve his own legacy. Hank didn't need to know that, either. Let him think the killer Markus had become a hero in the end. To Connor, he was a hero who had lived long enough to become the villain. His heart was a gift, but he'd only been given it in the hopes he'd father more children.</p>
<p>But whether he did or didn't was up to him, now. Markus and Kamski were out of the picture. He was happy. The truth held no candle to that, and he wouldn't set it alight with facts that had no bearing on the outcome. He loved Hope, he loved Hank, and he had a good life. One with meaning. It was more than many of his kind had ever been able to hope for.</p>
<p>"Connor?" Hank's voice called out from the other room. "You all right?"</p>
<p>"Just feeding Hope. I'll be back in a moment. Go to sleep." He wandered back into the bedroom and set Hope down in her handmade crib. Hank smiled at him from the bed, his expression warm and loving. Connor climbed back into bed, curling up in his arms and listening to his heartbeat. "I love you, Hank."</p>
<p>"I love you too, Connor," Hank whispered, and Connor smiled, contentment filling the open spaces in his android body. It didn't matter who he had been, but who he was now, and he was Connor, Hank's partner, and the first android father in the world.</p>
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